7 Years
by musicprincess1990
Summary: Just some little drabbles and one-shots about my favorite Harmony moments in the movies, in Harry's POV. Rating upped to T for language.
1. A Great Wizard

_Summary: Just some little drabbles about my favorite Harmony moments in the movies, in Harry's POV. One for each movie so far._

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"You're a great wizard, Harry. You really are."

She smiled at me, and for some reason, my heart beat a little faster. I shrugged it off as fear over what I was about to do. The sorcerer's stone was, hopefully, still there, and with any luck, I'd be able to get it before Snape did. That's all I really amounted to, was luck. None of what happened had to do with greatness.

"Not as good as you," I said, and I meant it.

Hermione laughed. "Me?" she all but scoffed. "Books and cleverness . . . but there are more important things." She looked at me again. "Friendship, and bravery, and Harry," she added, her eyes wide and scared, "just be careful."

I gave a little smile. It felt nice to have such a great friend in Hermione. When I first met her, I wasn't so sure about her. But even though she was a know-it-all at times, she was really quite nice, and she seemed like the kind of person that would follow her friends over a cliff.

That was when I knew Hermione and I would be best friends for the rest of our lives.

_

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A/N: Review! :D_

_PS: In case you didn't already know, I don't own Harry Potter. Blah._


	2. All Right

_A/N: Sorry it's been a little while, but you know how life can be. So, remember how I said there'd just be one chapter per movie? Yeah, never mind. There will be a lot more than that! Anywho, here's Moment #2 from Movie #1._

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I couldn't help but smile as Madame Pomfrey told me I could leave. Quickly saying my thanks, I ran out of the hospital wing in search of my friends. Dumbledore said they were fine, but I wanted to see for myself. It didn't take long to find them; they were standing at the top of the stairs in the entrance hall. As soon as they spotted me, they both smiled. I did, too.

"All right, there, Ron?" I asked. I'd been really worried since he was the one who'd been knocked out during the chess game.

"All right," he said. "You?"

I shrugged. "All right." Ha! I was _way_ better than that!

I looked at Hermione, whose hair was, for the first time, pulled partly back into a headband. It moved some of her bushy locks away from her face. She had a very pretty face actually. Yes, her teeth were a bit larger than usual, but when you took that away, she was very pretty.

"Hermione?" I asked her the same question.

She grinned. "Never better."

At that, I felt myself smiling even wider. I felt warm. My friends were okay. _I _was okay. We'd made it through our first year at Hogwarts.

And I couldn't wait for next year.

_

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A/N: Haha, if only he knew! See the link below that says "Review"? Click on it! :D Please?_


	3. Petrified

_A/N: Wow, CoS is a hard movie to find H/Hr moments! The only really good ones are at the end! Oh, well. Here's the next chapter. Sorry it's taken so long. Next one should be up _very_ soon. Like, in the next hour, or sooner. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Yada, yada, yada._

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I knew the moment McGonagall cancelled the match and insisted that Ron and I follow her. I knew exactly what had happened: someone else had been Petrified.

We half-jogged to keep up with her as she led the way to the hospital wing. I ran through my mental list of Muggle-borns, trying to think of who it might be. But whatever names went through my head, the _last_ person I expected it to be was the very person lying motionless on the bed.

"Hermione," Ron stated the obvious in a shaky whisper.

"She was found near the library," McGonagall explained, then she lifted a small, hand-held mirror. "Along with this. Does it mean anything to either of you?"

I shook my head. "No," I mumbled, then I turned my gaze back to Hermione. Her eyes were wide open, an expression of shock on her face. Her hand was outstretched and in an awkward position, as if she'd been holding something in front of her. The mirror, I guessed.

But why? Why did she have to be Petrified? Why _her_?

Not entirely conscious of what I was doing, I lifted my hand, gently stroking her fingers. They were ice-cold, and completely stiff, as if she'd turned to stone. My throat tightened, and my eyes burned. Whoever was behind this had better watch out. Now there'd be hell to pay.

_

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A/N: Kind of mature for a twelve-year-old's perspective, but . . . well, everything that happens to Harry and his friends is too mature for them. They basically have to grow up by age fifteen. Sort of. You get the idea. Anyways, like I said, next chapter should be up within the next little while. Please review!_


	4. Something Missing

_Disclaimer: Yeah, you probably know by now._

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Scooping up the dead flowers in the vase—I really had to work on that preserving charm—I replaced them with new, live ones, before sitting on the bed beside the lifeless form of my female best friend.

Hermione's face still bore that look of astonishment. Ron sat on the other side of the bed, in a chair placed a few feet away. He looked a lot better than I did, I'm sure. I heard that from a few people. They all said I looked tired, and sad. Well, I was! Have you seen the frozen girl in the bed? Hello! That's my friend there!

People suck.

"Wish you were here, Hermione," I said softly, knowing full well that she wouldn't hear me. "We need you," I added, taking her hand in mine. "Now more than ever."

Ron sighed and looked down, silently agreeing. But he didn't know quite what I mean by the last sentence. I couldn't quite explain it, but . . . without Hermione, it felt like . . . a huge part of me was missing. Well, that much was understandable, I suppose. We were a trio, inseparable. And now, one of us was missing in action. It made sense that it would feel like this.

But I seriously doubted Ron felt the same way. I was pretty sure he just missed her help with his Potions homework, rather than actually missing _her_. Oh, well. His prerogative.

_Wait . . . what's that in her hand . . .?_

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_A/N: Kind of a cheesy way to end it, but oh well. Hope you like this! Another chappy, coming soon! :)_


	5. She's Back!

_Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter. Boo._

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_This has to be the best roll I've ever eaten in my entire life_.

It was my first meal after the whole Chamber of Secrets thing, and everything tasted five hundred times better. I don't know what it was—maybe just the near-death experience—but it really was amazing.

"Harry!" I looked up at Neville, who had said my name. "It's Hermione!"

I whipped my head in the direction of the entrance, hoping to see her, but Ginny's head was in the way. So I leaned back, and there she was, standing in the doorway, smiling widely. I felt myself doing the same as she started running toward us. It took me all of five seconds to stand up, ready to hug the stuffing out of her. As soon as she reached me, I did exactly that.

A thousand thoughts rushed through my head as I hugged her. _I missed you so much, Hermione! Don't ever scare me like that again, Hermione! Thank you for saving us for the hundredth time, Hermione!_ Everything was Hermione. All that mattered in that instant was that she was here, she was alive, and in my arms.

_

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A/N: I know, there's more to this scene than what I wrote. But I'm focusing on the H/Hr perspective of it all. I really don't care about the awkward handshake moment she has with Ron. No offense to all Heron fans. Whatever floats your boat. But this is what floats _my_ boat. __:D __ Virtual hugs to everyone who reviews!_


	6. The Leaky Cauldron

_Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling. She has better hair than I do . . ._

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"I'm warning you, Hermione! Keep that bloody beast of yours away from Scabbers, or I'll turn it into a tea cozy!"

_Ah, the sound of familiar voices_.

I smiled as I reached the staircase that lead to the restaurant portion of the Leaky Cauldron. Standing at the foot of said staircase were none other than my two best friends, Ron and Hermione. They were arguing about Hermione's new cat—at least, that's what she called it, it looked more like a furry, orange footstool—which had, apparently, tried to attack Scabbers, Ron's rat.

Though I wouldn't say it to Ron's face, I actually agreed with Hermione on this one. Was he really supposed to expect a cat (however ugly it may be) to see a rat and just leave it alone?

Despite their arguing, I couldn't help smiling as I descended the stairs. I paused at the bottom, waiting patiently for Ron to see me (Hermione was standing with her back towards me). It wasn't until Hermione called Scabbers a "smelly, old shoe brush," that he did.

"Harry!" he grinned.

Hermione whirled around, and her face lit up as she saw me. She repeated my name, her cheeks turning a bit pink. That was a bit odd. But I could see that she was smiling—or, rather, trying _not_ to smile too widely. I didn't understand that. I loved seeing her smile. One day, I supposed, I would have to tell her that.

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_A/N:Wow! Four chapters in one night! I'm on a roll here! I might just keep going until I finish! Well, maybe not. That'll take a while, and it's already 10:00 at night. Anyways, I'm sure there will be AT LEAST one more chapter before the night's over, so stay tuned! And REVIEW! :D_


	7. Permission Denied

_Disclaimer: I own diddly-squat._

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My heart sank as McGonagall refused to sign my Hogsmeade permission slip. "I'm sorry, Potter," she said, patting me on the shoulder. "That's my final word."

I tried not to let it show how completely disappointed I was, since Ron and Hermione were standing there. "Forget about it guys," I shrugged, then took a step back. "I'll see you later."

Ron seemed to accept this, but Hermione frowned. She could tell I was upset. She could always tell. Damn her for being so bloody smart! It wasn't until Ron's hand touched her elbow that she even moved. I started toward the castle, turning around to watch them leave. Hermione happened to turn at the same time, and waved at me as she walked backwards. I gave a small, half-hearted wave in return.

Man, that hurt.

It seemed like there was more to it than just not being allowed to go to Hogsmeade.

But then, what was it?

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_A/N: Oh, I know! I know! Pick me, pick me! ;) Haha. I think you know, too. Okay, I think this will be all for the time being. Will finish Movie #3 soon, though. Review!_


	8. Transparent

_A/N: And here it is, the next installment! Wow, I can't believe how quickly I'm getting these chapters up. Seriously, this NEVER happens! I suppose I should just enjoy it while it lasts. And I'm loving how many awesome moments are in Movie #3! I always knew I liked that one. ;) Anyways, on to the story!_

_Disclaimer: Same as always._

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I heard them coming before I actually saw them; Ron was shouting after Hermione to wait up. Seconds later, Hermione appeared in the clearing, with Ron following not far behind. She paused, observing the footprints in the snow, leading to the place where I now sat, invisible, on a large rock. Her jaw tightened and her chest puffed out a bit, and she started toward me. Ron tried to stop her, but she ignored him.

I wasn't sure whether to be angry, embarrassed, or grateful as she slowly closed the distance between herself and my invisible form. Angry, because of the information I'd just learned about Sirius Black, which information I wasn't sure I wanted to share just yet. Embarrassed, because I was currently crying, and unable to contain the gut-wrenching sobs. Grateful, because even though she probably _knew_ I was angry and embarrassed, she still cared enough to brave an outburst from me just to see what was wrong.

She knelt in the snow before me, her eyes sad and sympathetic. I waited for her to speak . . . but instead, she lifted her hand. I cringed a little, not sure what she was doing. Eventually, her hand closed around the unseen fabric of the cloak, and she removed it. My humiliation increased, as she and Ron could now _see_ how hurt and angry I was. Well, so be it. They kind of already knew, anyway.

"Harry, what happened?" she asked quietly.

Part of me wanted to push her away, to demand that she leave me alone. But I knew I couldn't do that. I needed her, more than I would ever be willing to admit.

"He was their friend," I sobbed. "And he betrayed them." As I spoke the words, I was filled with indescribable rage. "HE WAS THEIR FRIEND!" I repeated, looking up at the two of them. Ron stood about ten feet away, looking a bit scared. I didn't exactly blame him; I _felt_ scary. Then I looked at Hermione, hoping I wasn't scaring her too. In fact, she appeared to be fighting tears of her own. She lifted her head cautiously, that same concern shining in her eyes, coupled with a slight amount of fear. But she wasn't scared of me, I could tell.

She was scared _for_ me.

I needed to assure her that she didn't need to be scared.

"I hope he finds me," I growled, "'cause when he does, I'm gonna be ready. When he does, I'm gonna kill him!"

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_A/N: I'm sorry for the stupid ending, but it needed to be over. This one's a bit longer than usual, but there was so much in this scene worth writing down . . . I couldn't bear cutting any of it out! And the part at the beginning, where Harry hears them coming, is obviously _not_ in the movie. I just sort of threw that in, because it sounded like something that would actually happen, and it shows to a greater extent the concern and care Hermione has for Harry. I'm not bashing on Ron, saying he doesn't care. On the contrary, he does. Harry's his best friend! But he shows his feelings very differently, being a teenage male _and_ a Weasley. Anyways, I'm done prattling now. Please leave a review!_


	9. Burrowing

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter._

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The ax fell with a resounding _thud_, the remaining sunlight glinting off of it. My stomach plummeted to my shoes. Buckbeak, one of Hagrid's favorite pets, was _dead_.

Hermione let out a sob, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her wrap her arms around Ron's neck. I noticed him stiffen, but he made no effort to remove himself from her grip. Something started burrowing within the pit of my stomach, something I couldn't identify. Probably just sadness because of Buckbeak. Plus, I started to feel an inexplicable desire to comfort Hermione.

So I did. I leaned against her from behind, wrapping my arms around her as best I could. It wasn't much, since she was still sobbing onto Ron's shoulder. The burrowing thing was back, and it clawed a bit higher up, closer to my ribcage. I tried to ignore it but something told me that it was a feeling I couldn't just brush off for good. Right now, I didn't understand it, but someday I would. I hoped, at least.

Until then, I'd just have to be content with being the best friend I could possibly be. I was okay with that.

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_A/N: I've always had sort of a love/hate relationship with this scene. I hated that the moment she starts crying, Hermione turns to _Ron._ Who does _NOTHING_ to comfort her. And who is it that _does_ try and make her feel better? That's right: _HARRY_. Just further proof, in my opinion, that these two belong together. :) Review, please!_


	10. Of Tunnels and Stupid Trees

_Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing._

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_I hate this damn tree_.

I let out a grunt as I slid down the tunnel leading below the Whomping Willow, the tree that I was currently cursing in my mind. Just as I started to get up, Hermione collapsed on top of me, letting out a scream as she did.

_Ow_.

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding like she was in as much pain as I was. And she probably _was_. She'd been beaten by the stupid tree even more than _I _had.

"Don't worry," I brushed it off. It didn't hurt _that_ bad.

I couldn't express my gratitude that, though she had to be the one in the most pain at the moment, _she_ was helping _me_ up, making sure that _I _was okay. I had the best friend in the world by my side; I was more than okay! For the time being, at least.

"Where do you suppose _this_ goes?" she asked.

_Oh, yeah. Find Ron. Find and save Ron_. "I have a hunch," I muttered, brushing some of the dirt and debris off me. "I just hope I'm wrong," I added, then the two of us started down the tunnel.

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_A/N: I officially love Movie #3 even more than I did before. This is probably where the bulk of this story will be coming from, since it's _chock-full_ of H/Hr moments! I love it! :D Brilliant! Please leave a review before you push the little red X, or go look for another story. I really want to know your opinions. Much love!_


	11. Silence

_A/N: So . . . _Prisoner of Azkaban_ has proven to be a little bit _too_ good. There was so much Harmony in there, I didn't know what to do with it all! So I've narrowed it down to just my absolute favorites. A painful decision, really, but it's for the best. That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the rest of the story. :)_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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It was cold.

I didn't remember it being this cold earlier. Of course, before (or right now, you could argue), I was in the Shrieking Shack, being shielded somewhat from the icy wind. But now, sitting a safe distance away from the Whomping Willow, I had lost almost all the feeling in my toes, and my fingers were getting stiff.

Not creepy at all.

My thoughts wandered to Sirius, and therefore, my dad. I remembered what I'd seen at the lake, and suddenly felt the need to talk to somebody about it.

Well, Hermione _was_ next to me, and who better to discuss something with than the smartest witch of her age?

"Hermione?" I said cautiously, not entirely sure of myself. I knew this would sound crazy to her, even though she probably wouldn't say it outright. It had been in her voice earlier, when we were in the hospital wing. But I wanted to get this out.

"Yeah?" she replied.

I bit my lip before speaking again. "Before . . . down by the lake, when I was with Sirius . . . I did see _someone_. That someone made the dementors go away."

I wasn't looking directly at her, but I could picture her nodding her head. "With a patronus," she guessed. Though, knowing her, it wasn't a guess. She always knew these things. I turned to her. "I heard Snape telling Dumbledore. According to him, only a _really_ powerful wizard could have conjured it."

There was no stopping the smile that spread across my face. "It was my dad," I said, looking away again. "It was my dad who conjured the patronus."

"But Harry, your dad's—"

"Dead, I know!" I snapped, feeling very defensive all of a sudden. I regretted it as soon as I saw the look on Hermione's face. She looked confused and apologetic, but most of all, hurt. Hurt because of _me_. I sighed. "I'm just telling you what I saw," I explained, hoping she would just leave it alone. To my relief, she did.

I wanted to apologize. I really did. I felt horrible knowing I'd caused that pain in her eyes. But I didn't know how. Just saying "I'm sorry" wouldn't be enough. There was too much I wanted to say to her that I didn't know how to put into words. Until I could, I would just have to be silent.

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_A/N: Bah! Another long one! It's so hard to keep these short! Especially these later ones, as they mature and their emotions get more and more complex. So, I think it's safe to say that I can no longer classify these as "drabbles." They're one-shots. Boo. I like the word "drabble." It's fun. Don't ask me why I think that, I just do._

_Reviews = virtual chocolate bars to those who leave them!_


	12. WereLupin

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything here._

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"Run!"

I didn't need telling twice. The moment the word escaped Hermione's lips, the two of us were racing through the forest, away from Were-Lupin. I was pretty sure I'd never run this fast in my life—even at Quidditch Practice! Of course, that was just practice. This was life and death. If Were-Lupin caught us, we were _dead_.

Literally.

After falling once and getting multiple cuts and scrapes from bushes and branches, Hermione and I hid behind one of the massive trees, gasping for air. I heard the telltale growl of the approaching werewolf, and Hermione grabbed my hand, pulling me in the opposite direction of the sound. We paused again, and the wolf howled, a long, mournful sound that sent a chill up my spine.

When it was quiet, Hermione tugged on my hand again, and we slowly backed away in the same direction.

Then . . . I heard a growl . . . coming from _behind_ us.

I froze, and I felt Hermione do the same, then we both turned slowly around. There he was, baring his teeth and standing on his back paws, ready to kill. And Hermione was in front of me.

_No_.

I grabbed her shoulders and pressed her back against me, shielding her from the werewolf. No way in _hell_ was I letting her die! That thing would have to go through me first if it wanted her! I braced myself for the impact, but it never came. Instead, I saw a flutter of wings and hooves as Buckbeak scared the wolf away.

Once it was gone, I loosened my grip on Hermione's shoulders, only to have her turn in my arms and bury her face in my chest. "That was so scary!" she whispered, and I instinctively tightened my arms around her. I tried to think of something—anything—to say to make her fears go away.

What I came up with was this: "Poor Professor Lupin's having a _really_ tough night."

Was that some sort of attempt at humor? Well, it failed miserably. _Brilliant, Potter_, I thought sardonically. _Way to help the situation_.

I couldn't mentally kick myself for long, though. A moment later, the wind picked up, making it decidedly colder than before, which was saying something. Hermione and I both looked up, and saw the reason for that. Dementors. At least a hundred of them. And they were headed straight for the lake . . . where Sirius and past-me were.

This wasn't over yet.

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_A/N: One of my all-time favorite parts of ALL the movies, not just this one! :D I love it so much! SO fun to write! Please leave a review!_


	13. Honestly, Ron!

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. You know this._

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Hermione and I started to open the doors to the hospital wing, but we paused as we noticed that past selves—from five seconds ago!—were still there. After a moment, they vanished, and we continued into the infirmary.

"How did you get there?" Ron asked, clearly confused and frightened. "I was talking to you there," he pointed madly toward the place where we had previously been standing. "Now you're there!"

In a split second, there was a mutual agreement between Hermione and me that we probably shouldn't tell Ron what had happened. Not only would he not understand, he would also likely blab about it to his brothers, who would blab to the whole school and then all hell would break loose. Ron was a good friend, but I didn't want that.

"What's he talking about, Harry?" Hermione asked in a tired voice. She wasn't a very good actor. It made me want to laugh.

"Dunno," I shrugged. "Honestly, Ron, how can somebody be in two places at once?"

Hermione let out a laugh, as she realized I'd just quoted _her_, word for word, right down to "Honestly, Ron" at the beginning. Then the two of us were laughing together at the absurdity of it all. We'd just spent the last nearly four hours _back in time_, saving not only my godfather, but Buckbeak as well. We'd freed a hippogriff that had been sentenced to death, been chased and nearly eaten by a werewolf, and then the whole night was topped off by watching myself almost lose my soul to a dementor, until I cast a patronus that drove _all_ of them away (by the way, that was _extremely_ tiring, and I don't recommend it)!

Yep. Ron _definitely_ wouldn't understand.

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_A/N: Haha! Poor Ron. Always out of the loop. Ah, well.  
_

_Anyways . . . yay! End of Movie #3! :D This was so much fun! I can't believe how many chapters I got out of it! I'll be taking a brief hiatus from this story, so that I can get back to doing my homework and going to school like a good little girl. That's the only bad thing about three-day weekends: they're not quite long enough. Whenever there is a holiday on a Monday, they should extend the weekend to _at least_ Tuesday, so that the poor, struggling students have a chance to catch up on sleep. Sigh. Well, c'est la vie. Thank you all for reading, and __**PLEASE REVIEW**__!_


	14. Lost

_Disclaimer: Honestly? I'm pretty sure you know already, so I'm just going to quit saying it._

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I felt my pulse racing as I witnessed the panic ensuing around me. Several tents were on fire, and I could see some black-clad figures, wearing masks and causing havoc. I wanted to do something, to fight, but I felt a tugging on my right arm. Hermione was clinging to me for dear life. In any other situation, I might have said something, or just shrugged her off, but I could feel the fear radiating from her. And it scared _me_.

"Get back to the portkey, everybody!" Arthur shouted then, calling our attention to him. "And stick together!"

The others immediately started running, but I couldn't stand to just leave these people defenseless. I had to help, somehow. But . . . how would I do that?

"Harry!"

I turned at the sound of my name, and saw Hermione waiting for me. She was alone, and unprotected. My stomach clenched; helping everyone would have to wait. Right now, the most important thing was protecting my friends. Protecting _her_. Without a word, I followed her through the frenzied maze of people.

I hadn't gotten far, however, before I lost the group. I heard a distant "Harry!" that sounded like Hermione's voice, which filled me with dread. Was she all right? Where had they gone? How would I find them?

Eventually, I forgot about saving people and just ran. Before long, though, someone crashed into me, sending me to the ground. I tried to get to my feet, but then I felt something bash the side of my head. I could feel myself slowly drifting out of consciousness; the last thing that went through my mind before I surrendered to blackness was the chilling sound of Hermione's scream.

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_A/N: Kind of a somber chapter, but this is a somber scene. I hope you like it. It's another short one. There's really not much more to this part, though. Anyways, please leave a review! :D_


	15. Best Friends

My heart and stomach did several very unpleasant back flips as I wandered aimlessly around the inside of the champions' tent. I felt stretched, thin as paper, and just about as durable. There was a lump roughly the size of a Golden Snitch forming in my throat, constricting my airway. The others in the tent weren't much better off than myself. Cedric stood at the center, looking as if he'd just smelled something foul. Fleur was mumbling in French and sulking in the corner. Even Krum, the impregnable Quidditch star, seemed shaky and uncertain as he emerged from his temporary living quarters.

All four of us tensed visibly as we heard the distant roar of an angry dragon. The lump swelled in my throat—feeling more like a Bludger now—and I glanced at Cedric. His lips were pursed into a grimace, and for a moment, I thought he might vomit all over the dirt floor. But he just swallowed thickly, gave a curt nod, and turned away.

I continued meandering, walking past the entrance to the tent. What I wouldn't give to find something—_anything!_—to distract myself.

"_Psst!_"

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the noise. _Where did _that_ come from?_ It sounded again, and I realized it was coming from outside. I moved closer to the entrance, pressing my ear against the canvas wall of the tent.

"Harry? Is that you?"

_Hermione_.

I could have squealed with joy. She always did seem to know when I needed a friend most. Especially lately, when she was the only one I had.

"Yeah," I whispered, answering her question.

There was a pause, and I worried she'd been caught by Snape or McGonagall. But a few seconds later, I heard her whisper again: "How are you feeling?"

Merlin, did she have to ask such a complicated question? I was feeling so many different things right now, I didn't even no where to start to explain. I probably could have given Moaning Myrtle a run for her money! So I opted for silence. That said plenty for me.

"The key is to concentrate," she said in her usual, business-like tone. "After that, you just have to—"

"Battle a dragon," I finished dryly.

The reality of it came crashing down on me a split second before Hermione threw the tent flap aside and launched herself at me. I gave a grunt of surprise, but hugged her back. As I did, something stirred inside me; something foreign.

Before I had a chance to understand, or even to enjoy the hug, there was a flash, and a loud _click_. Hermione pulled away, blinking and scowling in the direction of the flash. I matched her expression as soon as I recognized the beast of a woman now standing at the _other_ entrance.

"Young _loooove!_" she drawled in that awful, syrupy sweet voice of hers. She and her photographer crossed the tent to where Hermione and I still stood. "Mmm, how . . . stirring."

She was saying something else, but I barely noticed, preoccupied with what she'd said moments ago. "Young love"? She thought Hermione and I were . . . _together?_

I was tempted to laugh, but . . . something stopped me. That something was the abrupt, unbidden image of Hermione and me snogging that decided to invade my mind at that exact moment.

I shook the thought out of my head instantly. Skeeter was _insane!_ I had already guessed as much, but now it was all the more solid in my mind. Hermione and I would _never_ work as a couple. We were just best friends.

Best friends.

Best friends. . . .

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_A/N: Another chapter! Huzzah! I've been making a lot of false promises to all of my readers, and I'm inexplicably sorry for that, but I really honestly haven't had time to write, or even read! But I'm tantalizingly close to being done with school now, and I'll have A LOT of time off, so I plan to catch up on both reading and writing. Never fear, my dear readers! More is on the way! Love you all, and please review!_


	16. The Yule Ball, Part I: Discovery

_A/N: Another chapter! YAAAYY! :D There'll be plenty more where this came from now, cuz SCHOOL'S OUT! So I'll be able to put a lot more attention into writing and finishing my fifty-gazillion unfinished stories. __Happy day! __Also, I don't know how many of you may have noticed the difference in the title of this chapter. It was originally just "Discovery," but I added "The Yule Ball" to the title, because . . . well, because I wanted to. And I feel like it fits a little better with what's going on. I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy. Oh well. Wouldn't be the first time. Anyways, read on!_

* * *

Soft, slightly muffled music drifted through the closed doors of the Great Hall. It sounded vaguely like a waltz. I groaned; I'd never fully mastered the dancing part, and had secretly hoped that I could get away with not doing it.

No such luck. Professor McGonagall had just informed me that the champions (_me_, in other words) would dance first.

Bloody hell.

I was _done for_.

Just then, I spotted Cho standing with Cedric. My heart drummed a little faster, and I swallowed hard as she sent a smile my way. _I wonder if Cedric will let me dance with her, just once_, I thought hopefully. _Surely that would be_—

"She looks _beautiful_," Parvati whispered suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. Oh, yeah. I had my own date. Bugger.

"Yeah, she does," I said, assuming she meant Cho. Cho _did_ look beautiful. But when I glanced at Parvati, she was looking in the opposite direction. I turned my head, following her gaze up to the top of the stairs, and when my eyes rested on the girl of whom she had been speaking, I stopped breathing.

_Hermione_.

She floated down the stairs, a vision in her pink gown. My throat suddenly went dry as her eyes met mine, and a sly smile graced her features. I could see traces of makeup on her face, not covering, but merely enhancing the beauty that had always been there. How had I not seen that beauty before tonight? She was _dazzling_.

Then her eyes wandered—or rather, they seemed to be following something else—and some_one_ came up next to me.

Viktor Krum.

Hermione flushed and grinned shyly as Krum offered his arm. She accepted it, and they started toward the Champions' line. On the way, Hermione turned to me, lifting her hand in a small wave, and she giggled softly.

Something changed in me then. I'd forgotten about Parvati—though to be honest, I hadn't really been thinking much of her all night—and I'd forgotten about Cho. My eyes simply followed the exquisite girl in pink, holding the arm of the burly Quidditch star. And I felt a strange emotion . . . something I recognized.

I remembered a time, just under a year ago, when Ron, Hermione, and I had been out on the grounds, and had witnessed (sort of) the execution of Buckbeak, Hagrid's beloved hippogriff. Of course, the beast had later been rescued, by Hermione and I, with the assistance of a Time-Turner. But at the time, we'd believed him dead. And Hermione had turned to Ron for comfort.

When that happened, I'd felt something akin to an animal burrowing in my stomach, clawing its way up to my throat. Now I could finally put a name with that feeling.

Jealousy.

I was jealous.

Jealous of Ron that day because he got to have Hermione's arms around him (not that he did anything about it). Jealous of Krum, because he was her date tonight. And as I accepted this knowledge, I also came to the rather shocking discovery of the reason for my jealousy:

I fancied Hermione.

Hermione Granger, the bossy bookworm, my best friend for three and a half years now. And I fancied her. A _lot_.

Merlin's pants, I was _screwed_.

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_A/N: Hehe! More to come soon! Please review!_


	17. The Yule Ball, Part II: Arguing

_A/N: Part two of the Yule Ball! Hope you enjoy this installment!_

* * *

It was an odd feeling to know that nearly everybody in the castle was dancing in front of me, having the time of their lives . . . and I was sitting at a table like a bump on a log, with only Ron, and our dates, for company.

Ron was miserable. It was pretty obvious that Padma and Parvati were miserable. I wasn't doing so hot, myself. All my focus was turned to a man in wonky red dress robes and a beautiful girl in a pink dress; a.k.a., Krum and Hermione. They were probably the least wild (and least _drunk_) of the group, but even so, they were clearly having fun.

A giant, figurative knife plunged into my chest and twisted in its place every time Hermione smiled that beautiful smile of hers . . . at _him_.

But I was resigned; if she was having fun, I would not do anything to detract from her fun. Surely, this relationship—if that was even what it was—wouldn't last past this year. Krum would finish the Tournament, leave Hogwarts, and she'd never hear from him again. And she wouldn't be sad about it, because she was smart, and she didn't let stuff like that bother her. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she were the one to end it.

In any case, it wouldn't last forever, and I would be there for her when it was over.

"Ruddy pumpkin head, isn't he?"

And so would Ron.

I felt myself stiffen slightly. I'd always suspected that Ron fancied Hermione, but never really received any confirmation as to that theory. Now, I'd gotten it, and I wished I hadn't. Because I suspected Hermione liked Ron, too.

After a moment, I realized Ron was waiting for some sort of response, some show of solidarity. Swallowing hard, I said, "I don't think it was the books that had him going to the library."

Ron scowled and gave a subtle shake of his head, clearly irritated, and clearly out of his mind with jealousy. I could relate. But I was handling it better than my red-head best friend. At least, I was _outwardly_ handling it better. Inside, though, I could feel myself being ripped to shreds, all slow and painful-like.

I was vaguely aware of an older boy from Durmstrang asking Parvati to dance; I didn't care. I'd danced the first dance, and that was one too many! So having some random guy steal my "date" didn't matter.

Just then, the song ended, and the two people Ron and I had been persistently observing emerged from the crowd, and walked past our table. I followed them with my eyes, until at the last moment, I came to my senses, and snapped my head the other direction, focusing on the band. Somehow, I managed to keep watching them. Ron didn't even try. I noticed him, from the corner of my eye, turning in his seat to watch the pair as they . . . did whatever it was they were doing right now.

I didn't even want to know.

I felt, more than saw, Hermione approaching us. I turned to face her, and my heart gave a painful lurch to see that dizzying smile still on her face. Her face was flushed, and her lips were pink, and she glowed with happiness. She was beautiful. But not mine to look at. So I looked the other way.

Then she spoke: "Hot, isn't it?" she asked, and I turned to her, hoping my face was a careful mask of indifference. "Viktor's gone to get drinks. Care to join us?"

My pulse thudded in my ears. A chance to spend time with Hermione? Even if she did have a date, and I had to keep my distance, I still liked the idea. I felt myself smile a little bit, and opened my mouth to accept.

"_No_," Ron interrupted me, and I turned to him, frowning. He ignored me, eyes on Hermione, as he continued, "We'd _not_ care to join you and _Viktor_."

I could have punched him. He just _had_ to say "we," didn't he? Now, he'd turn on me the second he realized I wanted to go. And the miniscule amount of progress we'd made recently would be for nothing. I had half a mind to say it anyway, to put him in his place, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. So instead, I just rolled my eyes, and faced forward.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" Hermione asked. I inwardly smirked at the brief, most likely unintended innuendo, but kept my face carefully composed. It grew more and more awkward as the two continued fighting . . . _around_ me. I tuned them out for the most part, but found myself tuning back in as Hermione said something about making friends. That we should make friends with people from other schools.

That didn't sound so horrible to me.

"I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind," Ron spat.

_Oh, bloody hell, Ron!_ I turned to him, intent on voicing my previous thought, but at that moment, Hermione stood up, all traces of her smile gone. I couldn't decide which was worse; seeing her smiling at someone else, or not seeing the smile at all, and knowing she was angry.

Eventually, I decided on the latter. I wanted her to be happy again.

Shooting both of us one last glare—even though _I didn't do anything!_—she stalked off, back to Viktor. Shortly after, Padma followed suit, leaving Ron and me sitting at that stupid table. I was tempted to be angry. I _wanted_ to be angry. But I knew that the only person who had any right to be upset was Hermione. She _was_ upset. And I couldn't do anything to change that.

The myriad of emotions consuming me at that moment was suddenly more than I could bear. "I'm going for a walk," I announced to an unresponsive Ron, and I left him alone with his frustration and his immaturity.

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_A/N: Yes, I know, this chapter's big on the Ron-bashing. I didn't necessarily intend for that to happen, but at the same time, he really is a pain in the you-know-what in this scene. Anyhow, did you like it? Next chapter, the third and final part of the Yule Ball mini-series (hehe), will be up shortly! :D Reviews = love! _


	18. The Yule Ball, Part III: Spoiled Evening

_A/N: Part three! Enjoy!_

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My walk around the castle was very helpful, despite the cold. Actually, the cold was part of it. It distracted me from what I knew was going on inside, until eventually, I had accepted it.

Hermione was having a blast. Yes, it was with someone else, and yes, that made me insanely jealous—oh, shut up!—but only until I remembered two things. First, that I couldn't expect her to spend _all_ her time with me. She was her own person, and she could make her own decisions. Second, that she was still my best friend (as long as she didn't blame me for the things Ron had said). So there was an incredibly good chance that I'd get to spend a lot more time with her in the future.

With these thoughts, I felt significantly better, and ready to return to the castle.

That is, I was . . . until I heard two very familiar voices shouting at each other in the entrance hall.

Hermione was crying, and her hair was in disarray—but of course, she still looked exquisite. Ron looked both furious and confused at the same time.

"Next time there's a ball," Hermione shouted, "pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does! And _not_ as a last resort!"

_Oh, Merlin_.

They were having it out about her date with Viktor.

Ron's ears burned bright red as he stuttered something that I couldn't quite make out. I glanced down as I neared them, trying to pretend I hadn't heard them. It must not have worked, because suddenly, Hermione was right in front of me, looking even more furious. _Not_ a good sign.

"Where have _you_ been?" she all but growled. I opened my mouth to tell her, but she interrupted me before I could, "Never mind! Off to bed, both of you!"

I looked at Hermione's face, and could see a hint of shame there. She felt guilty for snapping at me. I wanted to reach out my arms and hold her, telling her I wasn't upset with her, and that I was fine with everything. I didn't think she doubted that, but still, she might like to hear it. However, the more prominent emotion in her eyes was fury, and a furious Hermione was more terrifying than a blast-ended skrewt. I opted for following Ron up the stairs.

Ron was glaring past me. "They get scary when they get older," he muttered, loud enough for Hermione to hear, as we started up the stairs.

_You idiot!_

"Ron, you spoiled _everything!_" Hermione sobbed, chasing us up the stairs.

I half-dragged Ron up the stairs, in order to avoid having a dead friend. Though I wasn't sure whether or not Hermione had her wand on her, it wouldn't surprise me, and I would _not_ want to see the curses she might use against Ron. So, still under the pretense of not knowing why they were fighting, I asked Ron for information. He just grunted something about "bloody Quidditch star," and hurried ahead of me.

I didn't stop him. Once I was sure he wasn't going to turn back and demand that I hurry up, I turned around and headed back to the entrance hall.

But when I saw Hermione, collapsed on the stairs, I stopped. Her shoulders trembled with heart-wrenching sobs, and I was sure there was a puddle on the stair she was hunched over, from her tears.

_She must really like Ron_, I thought, and my stomach churned. If she liked Ron that much, she wouldn't want to see me right now. She wouldn't want my apologies on his behalf, not matter how well they were intentioned.

Hermione would want to be alone.

With a soundless sigh, I pivoted, and took the stairs two at a time, desperate for the silence and blissful oblivion of sleep.

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_A/N: Aww, poor Hermione! Ron's such a jerk to her. She deserves someone so much better. Like Harry! :D Hehe. Anyways, thus ends the Yule Ball. Hope you liked it!_


	19. Scared

_A/N: I love it when I get on a chapter rush like this! I may get to Movie 7 within the month! :D It's not like I have anything else to do, and these updates are way, _way_ overdue! So enjoy it! I know I will!_

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It seemed that lately, whenever I was lucky enough to have a moment alone with Hermione, she was always scolding me. Last Tuesday it was about my overdue essay in Potions. Last night, it was about the paper cut I'd received while I was _writing_ my Potions essay. And today, it was about the stupid Tournament, and the mysterious egg that I had yet to crack. Get it? Crack? It's funny . . . okay, never mind.

"The task is _two days_ from now!" Hermione was saying.

I rolled my eyes. "Really? I had no idea!" I spat, voice dripping with sarcasm. It was rude of me, but I didn't care at that particular moment. My mind was reeling with so many different thoughts and emotions that I thought I might explode. The most prominent of these emotions was the ever-present envy of one Viktor Krum. He and Hermione had been "going steady" since the ball, and it was eating at me. And that fact was eating at me, and I just got caught in a circle of . . . being eaten.

That didn't make _any_ sense.

Thus proving my point.

"I suppose _Viktor's_ already figured it out." My tone was sharp and cutting, and I could see by the way her eyes tightened, that she'd noticed. I looked away, not wanting her to see the hurt that I was feeling.

"Wouldn't know," she said. "We don't actually talk about the tournament." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded bewildered, morose, and slightly irritated. "Actually, we don't really talk at all," she mumbled, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her turn her head away from me, looking out across the lake, as I was doing. "Viktor's more of a _physical_ being."

My first thought was to be furious. _WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN AND CIRCE HAS KRUM BEEN DOING TO HER? I SWEAR, I'LL KILL HIM!_ But then, as I thought about it, and thought about Hermione, knowing her as well as I did, I realized that she didn't mean it that way. Just as I started to smile, she gave an embarrassed laugh. I glanced at her, pleased to see a pretty blush painting her cheeks. She was so damn cute when she was embarrassed!

"I just mean he's not particularly loquacious," she explained, willing me to believe her. I did, but that didn't mean I couldn't tease her a bit.

"Mm-hm," I hummed sarcastically, still smirking.

She grinned, looking at me. "Mostly he watches me study."

I kept my smile in place, but I wanted to call him out as a creeper and a stalker. It just wasn't right! Okay . . . the watching her study part, I could relate to. I'd done it a fair few times in the last several weeks. But . . . that was without her knowledge! I would have thought that if she _knew_ he was watching her, she would be extremely uncomfortable with it. Then again . . . judging by the look on her face, she _was_. But she just wasn't willing to admit it. "It's a bit annoying, actually." Oh. Never mind.

Our eyes met, and her expression sobered. A silly, reckless part of me wanted to lean forward and kiss her—_bad, Harry! BAD!_—but her next words brought that train of thought to a crashing halt.

"You are trying to figure this egg out, aren't you?"

_Damn it. We're back to this?_ "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask warily, not sure I want to hear it.

"It just means these tasks are designed to test you," she said. As she spoke, I could see the cogs and wheels in her mind turning. Suddenly irritated, I looked at the water again. "In the most brutal way," Hermione continued. "They're almost cruel!" I could almost hear her mind working for a solution. And while I was grateful, I didn't want to deal with it right then. And I wished she would understand that.

But she didn't seem to get it. During a pause in her little speech, she moved to my other side, hoping to force me to look at her. _Nice try_. I turned my head away, still avoiding her eyes.

It took all my willpower to _keep_ avoiding her as she said, "I'm scared for you."

The rest of her words were lost on me, as I took in those four words. _I'm scared for you._ She was worried about me. Naturally, she should worry about me doing things that could kill me. We were best friends. But that stupid, selfish part of me wanted to believe that it meant more than that. That she was so terrified of losing me, because she wanted more, too.

But that was insane. She was with Viktor, for the moment. And she liked Ron, too.

It was impossible.

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_A/N: So, the irony of this chapter: despite the fact that it really is one of my favorite scenes in the movie, this was SO hard to write! I mean, really! I had to try to find the words to fit in the sentences, and I'm not entirely pleased with how it ended up. But I really want this in the story, so sue me. :) Besides, if I feel like, I can go back and edit at a later date. Please review!_


	20. Only One

A/N: I am a horrible person. I'm so sorry for the stupid wait. It's been a long, weird last couple of weeks. I'm trying to get as many stories finished as possible now. Let me tell you, that's no small feat. I've got about fifteen open-ended stories to work on, and most of them aren't even halfway done! Except this one. And maybe one other. Bah. Anyways, here's the next chapter!

* * *

They were _people_.

That's what those damn mermaids had taken. _People_.

I got closer, instantly recognizing the medium-length, flaming hair. Ron. It had to be. Then who were the others? Who were the people most important to the other champions that were stuck here in the dark, murky water?

It wasn't until I reached Ron that I could really see their faces. One was a little girl from Beauxbatons, with dishwater-blonde hair. Fleur's treasure. The next, Cho. She must be the one Cedric cares most about. When my eyes landed on the girl right next to Ron, my heart stopped.

_Hermione._

But . . . how . . .?

The gears in my mind clicked, and slowly, it all made sense. Krum must like her more than I thought. And since she was his treasure, she couldn't be mine, too, so they had to pick the person I cared second most.

Poor Ron. I hoped he never found out.

But I couldn't just leave her here. What if something happened to Krum, and he couldn't save her? The thought of life without Hermione made my stomach churn, and in a split second, I made a decision. I'd rescue them both.

I started with Ron, since I was right next to him. I moved to untie the seaweed that held him in place. Just as I did, I spotted Cedric coming toward the small group of captives. He pulled his wand out and, with a spark of red, severed the strip of seaweed holding Cho down. My guess was correct. Then, looping his arm around her, he looked over at me, and tapped his watch with his wand. I nodded, understanding his message. I was running low on time.

Producing my own wand, I pointed it at the spot just below Hermione's foot. But a nearby mermaid swam between us, pointing something sharp at my throat.

"But she's my friend too!" I insisted.

The mermaid growled at me. "Only _one!_" she rasped.

Just then, her eyes traveled to a spot behind me, and she, and the other mermaids, swam as far and as fast as they could. I turned around, and gasped: there was a shark coming._ They have _sharks_ in here, too? Dumbledore, what the hell were you thinking?_ I moved swiftly out of the way.

_Wait a second . . . the shark has legs. And arms. And it's wearing swim trunks_.

Krum.

He snapped the seaweed line tying Hermione to the floor of the lake, and pulled her toward the surface. I felt a spasm of jealousy, but I squashed it quickly. At least I knew she would be all right. I turned back to Ron, grabbing his arm, ready to head for safety. But I paused, looking at the little Beauxbatons girl. Fleur had run into some grindylows, and was disqualified. She couldn't help this girl. It didn't seem fair.

After checking for mermaids, I lifted my wand, and freed her. With a person on each arm, I swam for the surface.

I didn't get far before the gillyweed started to wear off. Then something grabbed my ankle. A grindylow. Several more came swarming in and attacking me. I couldn't fight them off with Ron and the little girl, so I gave them a push, sending them up to air and safety. Dozens of grindylows were coming at me now, clamping onto me with their tentacles. Merlin, that _hurt!_ I tried to fend them off physically, before I finally remembered that I was a _wizard_, and could get rid of them with magic.

So I did.

With a blast of light, I got them all off me, and stunned them to boot. All at once, they came to, and swam down below, leaving me alone at last.

My triumph was short. I was almost out of oxygen. My head began to spin, and my body started shutting down. This was the end. Hermione's face swam before my eyes, and I found myself wishing I had had the courage to tell her how I felt. I guess she'd never know now.

_Bloody hell, Harry. Are you a wizard or not?_

I mustered up some strength, pointing my wand to the surface, and with the last bit of air in my lungs, muttered, "_Ascendio_."

The effect was instantaneous. It was as if somebody had grabbed my wand and was pulling me upward, very rapidly at that. I closed my eyes. A moment later, I felt and heard the splash of myself breaking through the water's surface, and inhaled sweet, life-giving oxygen. Then, I collapsed onto the hard wood of the champions' platform.

Hands patted my back, arms, and shoulders, and a voice said, "He's all right!" A towel came over my shoulders, and then I realized that I was _freezing_. I glanced to my right, and saw Seamus' smiling face. He congratulated me as he pulled the towel out, draping it over me. Fleur appeared suddenly, thanking me with a kiss on the cheek for saving the little girl—her sister. Then, at last, the only person I'd _really_ wanted to see came wrapped in her own towel.

"_Harry!_" she practically screamed in my ear, her eyes wide in concern and relief. She knelt in front of me and adjusted my towel, tightening it around me. it hurt.

"Hermione! Ow!"

"Are you all right?" she asked frantically. "You must be _freezing!_" As she spoke, she removed her towel, revealing a thick, warm-looking robe. She wrapped the towel around me. Then, she smiled. "Personally, I think you behaved admirably."

As grateful as I was to her for saying that, there was one fact that could not be ignored. "I finished last, Hermione."

With an even bigger smile, she grabbed my head, and kissed the top of it. Warmth spread from the point of contact to the tips of my toes. I suddenly felt like I didn't need the towels anymore. Still holding my face, she looked at me.

"_Next_ to last," she informed me. "Fleur never got past the grindylows."

I didn't care. I didn't care if I lost the bloody tournament and was disqualified from getting the prize. Not that I cared much for it in the first place, but now, it was near the bottom of my list. None of it mattered. No one else here mattered. The only one I cared about was Hermione.

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A/N: I'm really sucking at endings. But there was just no good place to end this without making it REALLY long! And I didn't want to do that. Twentieth chapter! Big occasion for me! The longest story I've ever done was only fourteen chapters, and it got deleted, sadly. :( But that's okay! I'm loving this one, and all my other stories! Please review! Loves!


	21. Changes

A/N: Yay for another chapter! Happy reading!

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I walked slowly along the corridor lining the perimeter of the courtyard, watching my fellow students, and those belonging to Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, exchange their bittersweet farewells. It had been a long, insane, terrifying, emotional year, and I, personally, was glad to have it over. But I could see that the others didn't share my sentiments. They hugged and kissed and cried as they said goodbye.

The sound of a cannon echoed, coming from the lake, and our guests filed out of the castle and out of our lives. For the time being, at least. I knew that Krum had asked Hermione to write to him. And something told me that Ron would be seeing a lot more of Fleur Delacour.

Leaning against a nearby pillar, I took a deep breath, relishing in the sudden quiet. It didn't last long, though, for a moment later Ron hopped through a stone window right next to me, and Hermione came around the corner, both smiling.

"D'you think we'll ever just have a quiet year at Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

"No," Hermione and I said at the same time.

Ron shrugged. "No, I didn't think so. Oh, well. What's life without a few dragons?" he smirked at me, then hopped down from the window, and we started walking away.

I noticed that Hermione hadn't joined us, so I stopped and turned around. She stood in the same place, her hand on the stone wall, looking at the ground. It seemed as if she was smiling simply because to smile is easier than to cry. "Everything's going to change now, isn't it?" she whispered.

My heart wrenched at the way the smile slid off her face as the truth of her words sank in. I walked toward her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and scared. "Yes," I said simply, but tried, with my eyes alone, to convey that even if things _did_ change, we would always be friends.

She smiled, and I knew she understood.

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A/N: That was a short chapter. Meh. Oh well. Anyways, huzzah for the end of Movie #4! Man, that took forever! Please leave a review!


	22. Hatred

A/N: I'm a horrible author. I have been remiss. I'm so sorry! :( Things have been so crazy, I hardly have time to _think_, let alone write! I apologize from the bottom of my heart for my lack of updates. I can't promise to get any better, but I can promise that I will try. My life has slowed down considerably now, so I'll have a lot more time on my hands with which _to _try. Please don't give up on me! Anyways, here's the next chapter, and the start of Movie 5! PS, I've also finished several more chapters! They should all be up within the hour! :D

* * *

I had not, until that exact moment, felt true and unyielding _hatred_ for someone.

Sure, I hated Voldemort, but that was combined with a smidgen of fear. Because, you know, he wanted to kill me. I greatly disliked Snape, but even with all the dung he'd flung at me (figuratively speaking), I couldn't really bring myself to _hate_ him. He was just a prat, nothing more.

But I definitely hated Umbridge. Hated her with the fire of a thousand dragons.

The force of the emotion scared me a little, so I grabbed a book and tried to take my mind off it. But the pain in my hand was a constant reminder, and I could scarcely see the words on the page in front of me.

My attention turned elsewhere, for a moment, as Ron and Hermione came into the common room. He was begging her to do some homework for him, and she was, as usual, reluctant to comply, but eventually, he wore her down, and she agreed to do "the introduction" of whatever it was he needed done.

"Hermione, you're honestly the most wonderful person I've ever met," Ron said. "If I'm ever rude to you again—"

"I'll know you've gone back to normal," Hermione cut in, and they sat on either side of me on the couch. I forced myself not to look at them, trying desperately to hide my injured hand—which, of course, just _had_ to be the side Hermione sat on. With my luck, she'd notice it anyway. I attempted it anyway, just in case.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

_Damn_. Well, it was worth a shot.

I looked up at her, my heart clenching at her expression. For a brief moment, I was distracted by the pout of her lips, and the concern in her deep, honey eyes. Mentally shaking my head, I forced myself into my last chance at saving myself from their questions. I lifted my _right_ hand, showing her the unblemished skin. "Nothing."

She gave me a look that said, "Nice try," then promptly reached beneath my book and carefully grabbed the appendage in question, saying simply, "The _other_ hand."

My pulse sped up as her fingers grazed my raw skin, and for the briefest moment, I felt no pain. That, or my mind was so distracted by the feel of her hands touching mine, that I couldn't register any other sensations. In fact, that was probably the most likely of the two options. _Bugger_.

"You've got to tell Dumbledore," she said abruptly, drawing out of my stupor.

"_No_," I shook my head, reluctantly pulling my hand away. "Dumbledore's got enough on his mind right now." _Like avoiding me_, I thought bitterly. "Anyway, I don't want to give Umbridge the satisfaction."

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron piped in, "the woman's _torturing_ you! If the parents knew about this—"

"Yeah, well, I haven't got any of those, have I, Ron?" I snapped. I knew it wasn't really necessary to be so rude to him, but lately, for some reason, he was getting on my nerves. Then again, _everything_ was getting on my nerves right now.

"Harry, you've got to report this," Hermione said. "It's perfectly simple!"

"No, it's not!" I found myself snapping at _her_ now. "Hermione, whatever, this is, it's _not_ simple." It took all my willpower to ignore the obvious pain in her eyes. But I just couldn't take it anymore. "You don't understand," I mumbled, and I started to pack up my things.

"Then help us to!" she pled desperately.

She really _didn't_ understand. She didn't realize that I didn't _want_ her to. It was hard enough for me to get from one day to the next, knowing that there was a madman on the loose, who wanted to use me as target practice, and a psycho lady teaching one of the most important subjects in school—I should say _pretending_ to teach, since she wasn't really _teaching_ us a damn thing, except how to run from the truth. And all these things combined were enough to drive me absolutely barmy. I couldn't bear to think how affected Hermione would be if she had to deal with this, too.

So, putting off that cold, angsty vibe, I left her there with Ron, half-running up to my dormitory before I could randomly punch someone.

* * *

A/N: Poo. Bad ending. And I may have been stretching things a bit with the whole, "I don't want her to understand" bit. Oh, well. Feedback, please!


	23. Bring It On

A/N: Another chapter! Yay! :D Hope you like this one!

* * *

_Madness_.

Absolute _madness!_

There I was, sitting in the middle of some pathetic, rundown pub, staring into the faces of at least twenty of my classmates, all of whom were expecting me to teach them how to defend against Voldemort and all his sadistic cronies.

I suspected a mass Confundus charm.

Shooting a look of exasperation toward Hermione, I waited for her to give her little speech. Merlin knew she'd prepared something. Then again, judging by the look on her face, she must not have put much thought into what she might say. She stood, a look of shock and anxiety on her face as she addressed her schoolmates.

"Erm . . . hi."

If I hadn't been so tense, I might have laughed. I'd never heard Hermione sound so uncertain. I hadn't thought she was capable of being so.

"So," she went on, "you all know why we're here. We need a teacher. A _proper_ teacher," she amended. "One who's had real experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts."

"Why?" an obnoxious blond boy asked.

"_Why?_" Ron repeated incredulously. "Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot!"

_Thanks, Ron. That's helpful._

"So _he_ says," the blond said, obviously referring to me.

"So Dumbledore says," Hermione provided.

"So Dumbledore says because _he_ says," he persisted. I glanced up at him, feeling more and more frustrated by the minute. "The point is, where's the proof?"

"If Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed . . ." someone else chimed in. I swallowed hard; of course they would want to know about that. But I wasn't about to get into _that_ story.

I stood up, ready to speak for the first time since we'd all gathered. "I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're hear, you might as well clear out now." _Let them listen to me_, I pleaded silently. Then, I turned to my left, "Come on, Hermione, let's go," I whispered, leaning in so that only she could hear me. I did my best to ignore the little thrill I felt at being so close to here. "They're just here because they think I'm some sort of freak," I added with a subtle bite to my voice.

"Harry, wait," she whispered back.

"Is it true you can produce a Patronus charm?" a dreamy voice asked. I turned my eyes toward the owner of the voice, Luna Lovegood. She was smiling, which told me she already knew—or at least suspected—the answer. Everyone else watched with eager interest, wanting to know for themselves.

"Yes," Hermione answered for me. I turned to look at her, to silently beg her to stop talking, but she only gave me a little smile, and _kept_ talking. "I've seen it."

"Blimey, Harry!" Dean Thomas grinned. "I didn't know you could do that!"

"And he killed a Basilisk," Neville said, "with the sword in Dumbledore's office!"

"It's true!" Ginny added.

"Third year," Ron threw in his two cents, "he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once!" _And again, thanks, Ron, for being so bloody helpful_.

"And last year, he really _did_ fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh," Hermione said, a hint of pride in her voice. While that was enough to make me feel _really_ good about myself, I couldn't just let them all paint me as some sort of hero. I was just a dumb sod with an insane amount of luck.

I shook my head. "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that, but the truth is, most of that was just luck." _All_ of it was luck. "I didn't know what I was doing half the time, and I nearly always had help." Correction: I nearly always had _Hermione_.

"He's just being modest," she insisted.

"No, Hermione, I'm not!" Her surprise was obvious, and I could see a bit of hurt in her eyes as well. Bloody hell, I wasn't trying to hurt her! I was trying to _compliment_ her! Granted, I was the only one who knew that, but _still!_

Turning back towards my classmates, I spoke again. "Facing this stuff in real life is _not_ like school. In school, if you make a mistake, you can just try again tomorrow. But out there . . . when you're a second away from being murdered, or watching a friend die right before your eyes . . ." Images of Cedric flashed in my mind, but I forced them back. "You don't know what that's like."

The blank expressions on each of the faces in front of me confirmed my last point, and I was suddenly tired of talking to them. Gazing carefully at the floor, I sat back down in my battered, old chair.

"You're right, Harry, we don't," Hermione said, sitting beside me. "That's why we need your help." Merlin, couldn't she just give up already? Just this once? "Because if we're going to have any chance at beating . . . Voldemort . . ."

_My God, she actually said his name_. I wanted to hug her right then and there, to just kiss her all over for being such a wonderful, brave, supportive, all-around fantastic friend. But there were eyes everywhere, and a few over-sensitive ones, at that (Ron and Cho). So, reluctantly, I refrained.

"He's really back?" a young boy named Nigel asked fearfully. I could only nod.

A few minutes later, Ron, Hermione, and I were sitting behind a table, watching as nearly everyone in the pub signed their name on a strip of parchment. I felt as if I were signing a year of my life away . . . but at the same time, I felt a little thrill of anticipation. I was going to teach. I was going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. And I was going to teach it in secret, away from the prying, torturous eyes of a devious, heartless woman.

_Bring it on._

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A/N: Hehe. :) I had to throw this scene in. It's not strictly Harmony, but it's one of my favorite parts of the movie. And does anyone else just want to slap that snippy little weasel on the front row? I could just . . . _grr!_ Ahem. In any case, hope you liked this chapter! More to come soon!


	24. Teardrops and Teaspoons

A/N: And now, something that is going to be a bit challenging, far-fetched, and might make canon-lovers very upset: the post-kiss scene, Harmony style! Enjoy!

* * *

"Well, how was it?"

I sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, facing Ron and Hermione, who were seated on the couch opposite me. Each had a very different expression on their face, as I told them of my first kiss, which had happened just a few minutes ago. Ron was eager, excited, most likely just wanting to know how the snogging itself was. I had a feeling he hadn't yet been snogged, so he wanted to drink in as much as he possibly could, preparing himself for the day he _did_ snog someone.

Hermione, on the other hand, appeared to be stretching her mind, pulling it open, so that she could absorb every detail, analyze them all, then give the best possible advice and feedback that she could—which, considering it was Hermione, would be fantastically helpful.

Honestly, though, I was having mixed feelings about the whole ordeal. When I was alone, or with Ron and Hermione, or even with any of my more casual friends, my feelings for Cho were platonic. I barely thought of her. But as soon as I was in the same room as her, as soon as I saw her pretty smile and her silky hair, I would be overcome by her beauty, and act like some simpering little schoolgirl.

It was bloody pathetic.

Now, I'd kissed her, under the mistletoe in the Room of Requirement.

And I had no idea why.

After a moment of consideration, I responded to Ron's question: "Wet." Both he and Hermione stared blankly at me. "I mean, she was sort of crying."

Ron snorted a laugh. "That bad at it, are you?"

_Thanks, Ron. It's nice to know I can always count on you to make me feel better._

"I'm sure Harry's kissing was more than satisfactory," Hermione came to my rescue, as always. I thought I detected a hint of a blush painting her cheeks . . . but it was probably just wishful thinking. Yes, despite the fact that I'd just snogged some other girl, I still had overwhelming feelings for my best friend.

So sue me.

Feeling slightly smug at Hermione's remark, I turned to Ron and gave a slight nod, as if to say, "So there!" He just laughed again, the git.

"Cho spends half her time crying these days," Hermione went on.

Ron seemed surprised, and even more amused. "You'd think a bit of snogging would cheer her up!" He had a point there.

Hermione sighed. "Don't you understand how she must be feeling?"

Erm . . . no?

Ron obviously didn't, either, and after a brief silence, Hermione explained.

"Well, obviously she's feeling sad about Cedric, and therefore, confused about liking Harry, and guilty about kissing him, conflicted because Umbridge is threatening to sack her mum from her job at the Ministry, and frightened of failing her OWLs because she's so busy worrying about everything else."

_Bloody hell_.

Just _listening_ to all that makes me feel tired and on the verge of breaking down.

"One person couldn't feel all that," Ron said, once again, obviously agreeing. "They'd explode!"

She turned to him, looking slightly affronted. "Just because _you've_ got the emotional range of a teaspoon!" she snapped.

I couldn't help it; I started laughing. Before long, Ron was, too, and eventually, we got Hermione to join. It was the first time I'd genuinely laughed, actually _had fun_, in far too long. I decided to savor the moment, and think no more about Cho, about Voldemort, about anything else that might be happening in the world, and just focus on being a teenager with two of the best friends in the world.

* * *

A/N: Aww, hurray for sappy moments! :) This was a lot milder than I intended it to be, in all honesty. But that's okay, because I really like how it turned out. I felt like it fit with what was going on, which is a rare and momentous occasion in and of itself! :D Anyways, please leave a review! Next chapter should be up soon!


	25. I Must Not Tell Lies

I had to give Hermione credit for getting us out of there, and saving me from being at the receiving end of the Cruciatus curse. That was about as unpleasant an experience as anyone could have, painful to the extreme. And she had also bought everyone else a little more time, before _they_ would have to suffer as well.

Yes, Hermione had saved the day, as usual.

The only question was . . . what in the bloody hell was she _doing?_

"How much further?" Umbridge demanded from her position behind us, as we weaved our way through trees and hills.

"Not far," Hermione replied, her voice shaky, but confident at the same time. "It had to be somewhere students wouldn't find it accidentally."

Umbridge didn't have a response to that, for she was suddenly attacked by some sort of insect. The manner in which she attempted to swat the thing away clearly demonstrated to me that she had a strong dislike for nature. I couldn't bring myself to feel the least bit sympathetic for the old hag. She was a nasty, cold-hearted bitch, and she deserved whatever unpleasantness she got here.

My curiosity couldn't be suppressed any longer. While Umbridge swatted and swerved, I moved closer to Hermione. "What are you doing?"

"Improvising," she whispered back.

That was when we reached the clearing where Grawp should be. The only problem was, he _wasn't_ there. The rope which usually tied him down was broken and frayed, and there was no sight of the giant anywhere. How on earth could _that _be? He was a _giant!_ Shouldn't he be incredibly _easy_ to find? So where was he?

"Well?" Umbridge asked impatiently. "Where is this weapon?"

And suddenly, it was clear; Hermione had intended to use Grawp as the "secret weapon." A very effective strategy, except for the fact that _he wasn't here_. And now we were doomed. Hermione's embarrassment and fear was etched clearly across her face. I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but I knew there wasn't time. The foul beast of a woman standing before us might strike at any moment.

A sort of realization dawned on her face. "There isn't one, is there?" she asked. "You were trying to trick me?"

The sad part was, she was absolutely right. We had no weapon. Not even a fake one.

"You know," she whispered, "I really hate children!"

_Gee, I never would have guessed_.

A twig snapping in the distance caught her attention, and she whirled around. A herd of centaurs appeared through the trees, looking absolutely irate. Umbridge backed up slowly, moving between Hermione and me, until she was behind us. _Cowardly bitch. You're the Ministry official! Get out there and face what _you've_ caused!_

"You have no business here, centaur!" she called out, obviously afraid, but refusing to back down. "This is a Ministry matter!"

Obviously, the centaurs didn't give a damn. They stepped forward, two of them pulling arrows out of the quivers on their backs, and taking aim. She continued talking to them, but they still didn't listen. Two arrows came zipping toward us with incredible speed. I ducked, but it proved unnecessary, as Umbridge cast a shield charm to block the arrows.

"How_ dare_ you!" she shrieked. "Filthy half-breed!_ Incarcerous!_"

As she spoke, a rope shot out of the end of her wand, wrapping around the neck of the centaur in front. He let out a sort of whinnying noise, and collapsed to the ground, unable to breathe. The rope expanded, tying down his front legs. Hermione raced forward to help him, but to no avail.

"Please!" she cried. "Please stop it! _Please!_" I inched forward, wanting to help, but I didn't really see how either of us could. And Umbridge was watching with some kind of morbid satisfaction—no, more like sadistic pleasure—and she refused.

"No, enough! I _will_ have order!"

And just like that, she was hoisted off the ground by Grawp, who had suddenly reappeared, just in the nick of time. As she struggled in his grasp, the centaur on the ground was able to free himself, and the others began to charge. I couldn't really tell if they were going after Umbridge or Grawp at this point, but either way, I didn't particularly want to be caught in the middle of this. I grabbed Hermione's hand and tried to make a break for it, but Hermione desperately attempted to stop them.

"Leave him alone!" she cried. "It's not his fault! He doesn't understand!"

_Really, Hermione? I understand you have a soft spot for Grawp now, but I think he can take care of himself!_

From the midst of the centaurs, a single arrow was shot, and it hit Grawp in the arm. I hated the look on Grawp's face, which reminded me of a small child who had just been mercilessly teased by some bully. Glancing once at the squirming woman in his hand, he loosened his fingers, and she fell directly into the circle of centaurs.

"Potter, do something!" she demanded, eyes wide with fear as they heaved her off the ground. "Tell them I mean no harm!"

_She's kidding, right?_

I gave her my best glare, and shook my head. "I'm sorry, Professor," I ground out, relishing this moment. "But I must not tell lies."

And the centaurs whisked her away.

That had to be one of the best moments of my entire life.

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A/N: Again, not exactly Harmony-based, but a fantastic scene that had to be put in! :D Please review!


	26. Possession

A/N: My favorite scene, and favorite song, in the whole movie: _Possession_. You'll notice that I didn't change any of the memories and visions that Harry sees. I was tempted, believe me, but the point of this fic is not to change the story. Rather, I'm attempting to reinterpret what's going on in Harry's mind as these events happen to him. In any case, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

It was like my worst nightmare come true.

Not only was I in extreme physical pain, but my mind seemed to be slowly coming unhinged. There were moments when I would black out, and the pain was all I could think of, concentrate on, and I could vaguely hear Voldemort's voice. And in between those moments, I was forced to relive each terrifying even, each unhappy memory, that had taken place in my fifteen years of living. The death of my mother. Cedric's death. Dementors coming after me in Little Whinging. _Sirius'_ death. The attack on Arthur Weasley.

"So weak," Voldemort said in a cruel, cold voice. "So vulnerable."

Then, my mind's eyes saw me looking into a mirror. I twitched uncomfortably, and turned my head to the side. To my horror, when I was once again facing forward, my head had been replaced with Voldemort's.

"Look at me," he murmured.

Then, I was in my own body, seeing what was actually in front of me, though I felt as if I were on the brink of insanity.

"Harry," I heard Dumbledore whisper from somewhere nearby. "It isn't how you are alike. It's how you are _not_."

I twisted and writhed as the torturous pain took over my body once again. My vision clouded, blocking my actual sight, and causing frightening images to flash before my eyes, making my blood pump and my mind race. They lasted only a moment, and I was myself again, though I knew that it wouldn't last.

The sound of scuffling feet caught my attention, and I saw my friends—all unharmed and clearly ready to fight. Hermione and Ron stood at the front of the group, and when their eyes landed on me, the fear and concern on their faces caused a different kind of twisting and writhing within me. I didn't want them to see me like this, weak and helpless, vulnerable, just like Voldemort said.

Looking first at Ron, I tried to convey with my eyes my desire for them to leave. Of course, him, being Ron, didn't seem to get it, so I turned to Hermione.

Again, I saw fear, but beyond that, something akin to pride shone in her eyes, pride and confidence in me. And suddenly, I didn't want them to leave. I didn't want _her_ to leave. I wanted to stay lost in those eyes forever.

The pain seized control again, and _different_ images flashed in my mind. Embracing Hermione in the Great Hall, when she'd been revived after being Petrified. Laughing with Ron and his family. Seeing my Parents in the Mirror of Erised, the proud looks on their faces. Hugging Sirius in Grimmauld Place. Every moment of happiness I'd shared with Ron and Hermione—especially Hermione. My mind lingered on the most recent, laughing in the common room as we talked about my first kiss.

My first kiss which _should_ have been Hermione.

And just like that, I knew how to get past all this.

"_You're_ the weak one," I said. "And you'll never know love, or friendship. And I feel _sorry_ for you."

That wasn't entirely true. I didn't give a damn about him. But still.

The most intense pain of all enveloped me then, and every image I'd seen, and then some, flickered and flashed. Then, it was over; I lay on my back, my body stiff and my mind sore from Voldemort's attack on it. I panted each breath, waiting fearfully to see if more would come. But it didn't.

Instead, I saw Voldemort standing directly above me. "You're a fool, Harry Potter," he whispered with a vicious grin. "And you will lose _everything_."

A strange noise captured his attention, and he looked past me. I recognized it as the sound of the Aurors flooing here, ready to take on whatever evil must be here. I could picture their shocked faces upon seeing what that evil really was. But I was slowly losing my grip on the world, fading into unconsciousness. The last thing that I registered before surrendering was the Minister's terrified voice: "He's back!" Then the darkness took me.

* * *

A/N: There really isn't much Harmony in this movie, is there? Sigh . . . well, there's some good stuff, anyway. I think this is the end of Movie 5. HPB will come soon! Don't forget to review! :)


	27. Oops, I Told a Lie

A/N: And so begins Movie 6! :D

* * *

"I notice you spend a great deal of time with Miss Granger." Dumbledore gave me a small smile at these words. "I can't help wondering if . . ."

Bloody hell, was I that obvious? Here, I'd been trying my best to hide my feelings, and even bloody _Dumbledore_ could tell! Then again, that wasn't so surprising. He always did seem to be able to read my mind. But still, if Dumbledore knew my heart, then how easy would it be for Hermione to read?

"No, no!" I half-shouted in panic, and then I realized that I might have come off a bit disgusted by the thought. "I mean, she's brilliant, and we're friends, but no."

The words sounded, and felt, like a lie. I couldn't ignore the overwhelming sense of dread and disappointment in myself, for I was _lying_ to the man I most respected and trusted, my mentor, if you will. But he accepted the explanation easily enough, and apologized for his curiosity. I forced a smile, which I had a feeling had ended up far too wide to be considered genuine.

I didn't have much time to worry about that, though, before Dumbledore showed me to his pensive, and a vast collection of memories. . . .

* * *

A/N: Sorry, I know it's short, but there's not really much else to this scene. I almost didn't put it in, but I really think this is an important moment. Please review!


	28. It Feels Like This

A/N: Here's a much longer one. I kind of owe it to you, don't I? After that last chapter. Besides that, it's one of the best Harmony scenes in the whole series! Well, _I_ think so anyways. Hope you like it!

* * *

The common room was filled with the chorus of "Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!" as my housemates cheered Ron on for his incredible performance at the Quidditch match earlier that day. He had been truly brilliant . . . even if it was just because of a little "liquid luck." Or so he thought.

"You really shouldn't have done it," a familiar voice came from my left. I didn't have to look to know it was Hermione. I couldn't help but smile.

"I know," I agreed. Then, I turned to look at her. "I suppose I could have just used a Confundus charm."

Her cheeks burned bright pink at being found out, but she was, as ever, insistent on being right. "That was different. That was _tryouts_. This was an actual _game_." As she spoke, I reached into the pocket of my shirt, and produced the still-full vial of Felix Felicis. Hermione's eyes wandered to the vial, and the faintest of smiles curled the corners of her lips. "You didn't put it in. Ron only thought you did."

I gave an exaggerated nod, smiling proudly at my moment of brilliance. Then, still grinning, I looked back at Ron.

Just in time for him to start snogging Lavender Brown. _Whoa. I didn't even know he liked her. Well, more power to him, I suppose_. I laughed quietly as the rest of the common room cheered him on. It was about time the poor guy got some action.

A sudden coldness on my left sight grasped my attention, and I turned to see Hermione leaving the common room. My insides squirmed painfully, as I suspected her exit had something to do with Ron and Lavender's public display of affection. I followed her, hoping I was wrong.

No sooner had I escaped Gryffindor Tower than I heard the most heartbreaking sound I'd ever heard in my life: Hermione's sniffling sobs. I turned my head toward the sound, and walked slowly in that direction. I found her sitting at the bottom of a staircase, shoulders hunched, wand out, with some birds fluttering by her head.

When I stood next to her, she looked up, her red-rimmed eyes betraying her even further. Fruitlessly, she tried to wipe away her tears, but I had already seen, and heard, enough. Enough to make me want to throttle Ron for being so damn stupid and clueless. How could he not see what was right in front of him? Poor Hermione was mad about him.

And _I_ was mad about _her_.

_Ouch_.

"Charms spell," Hermione said suddenly. "I'm just practicing."

It took me a moment to realize that she was talking about the birds. "Well, they're really good," I complimented her. When she made no response, I sat beside her, racking my brains for something else to say. This proved unnecessary, however, as she was the first to speak.

"How does it feel, Harry?" she asked, her voice strained. I frowned in confusion, and she went on to explain, "When you see Dean with Ginny."

_Shite_.

I really didn't know how to answer that. Honestly, I was just as confused about the whole Ginny thing as she seemed to be about Ron. Ginny was great. She was pretty, smart, and funny. But she was . . . well, she was Ron's sister. Which, given the fact that I viewed Ron as the brother I never had, made her like _my_ sister. So you can see all the very creepy ramifications of me dating Ginny. I supposed that my anger toward Dean was just like Ron's—that of an overprotective older brother.

Except . . . I did find Ginny rather attractive. But even so, she really had nothing on Hermione. Hermione was surreally beautiful.

"Erm . . ." I began, unsure of how to respond.

"I know," Hermione said, seeming to take my silence as her answer. "I see the way you look at her." _What? I think you're reading too much into this, Hermione_. "You're my best friend."

Did she _have_ to throw that in? Talk about a stake through the heart. Yet another reminder that Hermione didn't think of me as anything more than a friend.

My ears were suddenly accosted by a high-pitched giggle, and the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. A moment later, Ron and Lavender appeared, their hands clasped together, grinning broadly. Then, as Ron noticed Hermione's current state, his smile faltered a little.

"Oops!" Lavender chirped. "I think this room's taken."

Ron looked put out by the suggestion. I wanted to punch him. It was his own damn fault for hurting Hermione like this.

"What's with the birds?" he asked bluntly.

To my surprise, Hermione shot to her feet, facing Ron dead on, with an expression that I couldn't believe hadn't set him on fire by now. "_Oppugno!_" she muttered, and the birds gathered above her head, forming a line, then they zoomed toward Ron in obvious attack. He dodged them as best he could, eventually ending up in front of a door. They barely missed him, each one exploding in a ball of tiny feathers as they hit the door behind him. Casting another affronted look at Hermione (the git), he left without a second glance.

A moment later, Hermione collapsed beside me, shuddering with each sob. I scooted closer, allowing her to wrap her arms around mine, resting her head on my shoulder. I hated seeing her like this. Every second she cried made me want to hex Ron more and more. And at the same time, it pushed that stake a little further into my heart.

"It feels like this," I mumbled, finally answering Hermione's question. But what she would never know, was that I didn't feel this way about Ginny.

It was her. It would always be her.

* * *

A/N: **sniffles** This scene always makes me so said! But at the same time, it's a great moment for Harry and Hermione. And I absolutely love the music here. One of my favorite parts of the movie. :) Reviews = love! Please leave one!


	29. Date Arrangements

The good news: Hermione was no longer depressed and crying over Ron. The bad news: she'd moved onto being angry and not speaking to him. And of course, Ron was a blithering idiot about it, saying that what Lavender and he had was "chemical" and there was no stopping it. Whatever.

When I confronted Hermione about the previous night's sob-fest (of course, I didn't call it that, I just asked her if she was okay), she became cold and defensive.

"He's at perfect liberty to kiss whoever he likes," she insisted, referring to Ron. "I _really_ couldn't care less." _Right_. "Was I under the impression he and I would be attending Slughorn's Christmas party together? Yes. Now, given the circumstances, I've had to make _other_ arrangements."

_What? Oh, Merlin_.

"Have you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible.

"Yes. Why?"

_Cool and casual, Harry. Don't let her know how you _really_ feel_. "Well, I just thought, seeing as neither of us can go with who we'd really like to—" _unless you say yes, in which case I'll be happy as a canary_, "—we should go together, as friends."

The expression on her face was one of shock, distress, and disgust. Bugger. Had I really offended her so much? I was trying to eliminate the awkwardness of going with people we didn't really like! And yes, I was secretly relishing the thought of being Hermione's "date" for once, but that's beside the point! The point is, I wanted to be a good friend! How had I failed already?

"Why didn't I think of that?" Hermione groaned.

Oh. Guess I hadn't.

"Who are you going with?" I asked, my voice surprisingly steady.

"Erm . . . it's a surprise."

Bloody hell, she's going to make me wait to find out? I'm going to be on edge until that blasted party, wanting to kill whoever it is, but not being able because I don't know who the hell it is! Merlin must _really_ hate me.

"Anyway, it's _you_ we've got to worry about." _Me?_ "You can't just take anyone." She glanced to her left, then moved so that she was standing next to me. "See that girl over there?" she asked. I peered over her shoulder, seeing a pretty girl with long black curls smiling at me. "That's Romilda Vane," Hermione informed me, while I still watched the girl. "Apparently she's trying to smuggle you a love potion."

"Really?" I asked, more fascinated and eager than I should be. Maybe if I got a love potion, I would finally stop thinking about Hermione! I could actually live my life without feeling pain every single bloody day!

"Hey!"

I was rudely dragged out of my thoughts by the sudden snapping of fingers in my face. I looked at Hermione. "She's only interested in you because she thinks you're the Chosen One!" she said in an angry whisper.

"But I _am_ the Chosen One." Scowling furiously, Hermione lifted the folded parchment in her hand and swatted me over the head with impressive force. I winced at the blow, shrinking away from her. "Okay, sorry," I said in a rush. "Erm, kidding. I'll ask someone I like. Someone cool."

That list was actually much shorter than it should be. The only person I _wanted_ to go with was Hermione. Next might be Ginny, but there was the whole confusion about me liking her, not to mention that she was still with Dean. Who else could I take?

Well . . . there was always Luna. . . .

* * *

A/N: This scene always makes me giggle. I love how Hermione hits him in the head for being a smart-arse. Reviews, please, and lots of them! :D


	30. Dragon Balls

The party was a smash. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.

Well, _almost_ everyone.

I spotted Hermione making a mad dash for the curtained window, hiding behind the not-quite-opaque drapes. _What on earth . . .?_ I made my way slowly over there, pulling back one of the curtains and joining her.

My breath, quite literally, slipped away from me as I saw her in that little party dress. It hugged her curves in just the right places, emphasizing each one nicely, and the extremely low neckline left very little to the imagination. I found myself tempted to just snog her then and there. But, judging by her expression, she wasn't likely to be in the mood.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" I asked. "And what happened to you?"

She pushed a stray lock of hair off her face. "I've just escaped!" she whispered. "I mean, I've left Cormac under the mistletoe."

_What the hell?_ "Cormac? _That's_ who you invited?"

"I thought it would annoy Ron the most." Ah. So there it was. She clearly wasn't as indifferent as she'd tried to come off. I'd already guessed as much, but it still hurt to actually hear it confirmed. "He's got more tentacles than a Snarfalump plant!"

Suddenly, a server came and shifted the curtain, extending a tray of . . . something that resembled the dung I'd seen Hagrid feed to some of his more outrageous creatures. "Dragon tartare?" he asked.

_Not bloody likely_. Hermione was the one to speak. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

He shrugged. "Just as well. They give one horrible bad breath."

Something sparked in her eyes. "On second thought," she said, grabbing the tray from him and picking up one of the little balls of grossness. She cast a despairing glance at me. "Might keep Cormac at bay," she explained. I gave her points for moxy, but I didn't think I'd be able to stomach that. "Oh God, here he comes!"

Hermione handed me the tray and ducked out of the curtains, just as Cormac entered. "I think she just went to powder her nose," I said to him, wishing for all the world I could punch him. Slick git.

"Slippery little minx, your friend," he commented, eyeing the tray with curiosity. I held it out just a little, and to my satisfaction, he grabbed a piece. "Likes to work her mouth, too, doesn't she?"

I wanted nothing more than to junk-punch him for what he was implying. But he had just popped the ball into his mouth, and I had just gotten an idea.

"What is this I'm eating, by the way?" he asked.

After a brief pause, for effect, I said with an innocent expression, "Dragon balls."

I only wished Hermione could be there to witness his expression. Harry: ten points, Cormac: zero.

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A/N: I know, bad place to end it, but it really just needed to end. I love this scene so much. :) I wanted to hug the stuffing out of Harry when he said that. Cormac is a piece of sh—er . . . something. Anyways, don't forget to review! :D


	31. Love's Keen Sting

"Hermione . . ."

At the sound of the name escaping Ron's unconscious lips, Lavender tore from the hospital wing, sobbing hysterically. Hermione, however, had sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping her hand in his. Ginny sat in a chair on the other side of the bed, her eyes glinting with amusement, while I, and several professors, stood around him.

"Oh, to be young," Dumbledore said suddenly, "and to feel love's keen sting." He smiled, then nodded to the others. "Well, come away, everybody. Mr. Weasley is well tended."

The teachers filed out quickly, and Ginny stood up as well. "About time," she said with a laugh, "don't you think?"

I could only give a strained smile and nod, then she walked away. Keeping the smile on my face as best I could, I looked at Hermione. She glanced at me, her face aglow with happiness. "Oh, shut up," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Clearly, she had mistaken my smile as a teasing one. Oh, if only she knew.

A dull ache began throbbing in my chest, spreading out to my fingers and toes, resonating in my veins. I had never known such exquisite pain, such undeniable agony. I'd suffered the Cruciatus curse, been attacked by various magical persons and objects, came within an inch of death on more occasions than I could count on my fingers and toes. But this . . .

Why did it hurt so much? Why did I feel as if I could cry right there?

_Oh, to be young, and to feel love's keen sting_.

As Dumbledore's words echoed in my mind, Hermione looked back up at me, smiling softly. I suddenly couldn't pretend anymore. I left as quickly as I could without raising her suspicion, and stopped in the corridor outside the hospital wing. Feeling the tears threaten, I made my way to the nearest broom closet. Once inside, I slid down to the floor, and fought back my emotions. A few tears escaped, much to my private embarrassment, but I couldn't ignore the _sting_ any longer.

Yes, I know. Go ahead and take my man card.

Because I had come to a realization. One that would forever change my life.

I was in love with Hermione.

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A/N: I always felt like Harry's smile was a little forced here, and he seemed to be in a great hurry to leave. Hmm . . . ;) Review, please!


	32. I Need You

R.A.B.

Those three letters haunted me. I felt as if I _should_ know. As if there were something teasing the back of my mind, some answer that I couldn't quite reach.

I wasn't trying all that hard, though, to be honest. The pain of Dumbledore's death was still fresh, still raw. Thinking about what we failed to do only made it worse. And thinking about finishing it brought on new pains, new fears. But I knew I had to do it. Now, I just had to break it to Ron and Hermione.

"Ron's okay with it, you know," Hermione said abruptly. I frowned, wondering if she had read my mind. Wouldn't be the first time. She always did know me best. But then she went on to say, "You and Ginny."

Not that again. Yes, I'd kissed Ginny, and yes, I had developed feelings for her—only natural when you kiss someone—but they still didn't feel quite right. They had come on so suddenly. Out of nowhere, over the Christmas holiday, I found myself thinking about her in a . . . less than platonic way. I couldn't fathom why.

But for all this, I still hadn't stopped loving Hermione.

Talk about frustrating.

"If I were you," Hermione's voice brought me out of my momentary stupor, "when he's around, I'd keep the snogging to a minimum."

I laughed quietly; I had no intention of snogging Ginny again. At least, not until I'd sorted out my feelings. And also, not until I'd removed the very great danger that still threatened us all. Speaking of which . . .

"I'm not coming back, Hermione," I said dully. When she didn't say anything, I kept talking. "I've got to finish whatever Dumbledore started. And I don't know where that'll lead me . . ." I swallowed hard, preparing for what I was about to say, and the pain it would cause. "But I'll let you and Ron know where I am when I can."

After a pause, she said, "I've always admired your courage, Harry, but sometimes, you can be _really_ thick." _Say what?_ I turned my head in her direction, frowning. She grinned. "You don't really think you're going to be able to find all those Horcruxes by yourself, do you?"

I couldn't look at her anymore. Honestly, I never had thought that. I knew it would be next to impossible. But I hadn't wanted to drag her and Ron into this. Especially not her. She didn't deserve that kind of pain.

I started slightly as Hermione moved her head into my line of vision. "You need us, Harry," she said simply.

_I need you_, was the only thought that crossed my mind. It was a losing battle. She was right. I would be lost without them, without_ her_. And the thought of the two of them attending another year at Hogwarts without me was suddenly more agonizing and unbearable than I thought it would be. I did need them.

So it was settled.

I had no idea what horrors awaited us in our search. I couldn't imagine how much we would suffer through. But I _did_ know that, as long as I had my friends beside me, I would be okay.

* * *

A/N: Now comes the hard part: _The Deathly Hallows_. What a daunting task! We'll see how that works out. Part 1, coming soon!


	33. Perfume

My heart almost stopped as I saw the men standing mere feet away from Hermione. I walked carefully over, wand ready, in case I needed to defend her. But they looked like they were arguing about something, oblivious to her presence.

"Snatchers," I said, as a way of announcing _my_ presence. Hermione turned to face me. "Good to know your enchantments work."

But she seemed bothered by something. She turned to look in the direction they had disappeared. "He could smell it," she rasped out. "My perfume."

Almost on cue, a light breeze rustled her hair, blowing a heavenly scent toward me. It was a scent I knew well—the combination of parchment, cinnamon, and vanilla—and understood what would have made the Snatcher stop. It was enough to nearly incapacitate me, though perhaps for different reasons. I forced myself to concentrate on the matter at hand, though. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone would accidentally stumble upon us here. We'd been here far to long. As Hermione and I headed back to the tent, I voiced my concern.

"I've told you," she whispered irritably, "Ron isn't strong enough to apparate."

"Well, then, we'll go on foot," I said. And as much as I disliked the idea, I knew that it was necessary. And though Hermione sighed in her obvious displeasure, I could tell that she knew it, too. "And next time, Hermione," I added, "as much as I like your perfume—" _Understatement of the year_, "just don't wear any."

Hermione gave a little smile, and we walked the rest of the way in silence.

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A/N: Mild, and short (sorry!), but still a great scene. Review, please!


	34. Broken

A/N: This is an extra long one, just for you. It's also very intense. But that's the way it's supposed to be. Anyways, here you are: Ron's departure.

* * *

It was all I could do to stay still, and not give away my emotions, as Hermione's hands worked through my hair as she cut it. Personally, I liked it longer, but she'd insisted on it. Now, I wished I had insisted right back. Then again. . . .

"Oh, my God!"

That came out of nowhere. "What?"

"I'll tell you in a minute!" she said, and I could hear her footsteps moving away from me. I felt the back of my head, where she had been working, to find that it was extremely uneven. _Brilliant. Just brilliant_. I hopped up from my chair to follow Hermione to where we had a table set up.

"Maybe you could tell me now," I pressed, starting to feel nervous.

"The sword of Gryffindor," she explained. "It's goblin-made."

_What the hell_. "Brilliant," I said uncertainly.

She grinned. "No, you don't understand." Well, that much was obvious. "Dirt and rust have no effect on the blade." She set a book down in front of me, pointing to the passage in question. "It only takes in that which makes it stronger."

I still didn't get it.

"Okay?" I said hesitantly, looking up at her.

She had that excited gleam in her eyes she always got when she'd finally figured out a particularly difficult spell. "Harry," she began, "you've already destroyed one Horcrux, right? Tom Riddle's diary in the Chamber of Secrets!"

I remembered, but there was one small problem. "With a Basilisk fang," I said. "If you tell me you've got one of those in that bloody beaded bag of yours . . ." _Which has saved our lives more than once_, I finished in my head.

"Don't you see?" Hermione sat down, still beaming. "In the Chamber of Secrets, you stabbed the Basilisk with the sword of Gryffindor! Its blade is impregnated with Basilisk venom."

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. "It only takes in that which makes it stronger," I quoted her, taking the seat across from her."

"Exactly, which is why—"

"It can destroy Horcruxes," I finished for her, finally sharing her excitement.

"That's why Dumbledore left it to you in his will!"

I could have kissed her right there. "You are _brilliant_, Hermione! Truly!" I grabbed her hand for a moment, hoping that would be enough to convey my thanks.

She smiled, her cheeks turning faintly pink. "Actually," she said, "I'm highly logical, which allows me to look past extraneous detail, and perceive clearly that which others overlook."

I had no idea what that meant, but as far as I was concerned, she was brilliant.

"There's only one problem, of course," I said. And no sooner had the words left my mouth, than the tent was plunged into darkness. I looked at Hermione's vague, black outline, and then the two of us turned toward the center of the tent. Ron appeared a moment later, wearing an unpleasant expression.

"The sword was stolen," he said, and, using the Deluminator, returned the light to its original place. "Yeah, I'm still here," he growled bitterly. "But you to carry on," he added with a falsely cheery tone of voice. "Don't let me spoil the fun." I glanced at Hermione, then adjusted myself so that I was facing him straight on.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong." He sneered. "Not according to you, anyway."

Right. Like I believed that. "Look, if you've got something to say, don't be shy," I told him. "Spit it out."

Ron's scowl rivaled even Draco Malfoy's. "All right, I'll _spit it out_, But don't expect me to be grateful just because now there's _another_ damn thing we've got to find!"

"I thought you knew what you signed up for."

"Yeah, I thought I did too."

"Well, then, I'm sorry, but I don't quite understand." My frustration was mounting. I stood up, marching past Ron. "What part of this isn't living up to your expectations? Did you think we'd be staying in a five-star hotel?" I faced him again, and saw that Hermione, too, was standing now. "Finding a Horcrux every other day? You thought you'd be back with your mum by Christmas?"

"I just thought, after all this time, we would've actually achieved something! I thought you knew what your were doing! I thought Dumbledore would have told you something worthwhile! I thought you had a plan!"

"I told you everything Dumbledore told me! And in case you haven't noticed, we found a Horcrux already!"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and we're about as close to getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them, aren't we?"

Hermione stepped in between us, facing away from me. "Ron, please take—" She reached for the locket, but he fought her off. "Please take the Horcrux off. You wouldn't be saying any of this if you hadn't been wearing it all day."

He ignored her, instead looking at me again. "You don't know why I listen to that radio every night, do you? To make sure I don't hear Ginny's name, or Fred, or George, or Mum."

"What, you think I'm not listening too?" I found myself screaming. "You think I don't know how this feels?"

"No, you _don't_ know how it feels! Your parents are dead! You have no family!"

That was the last straw. I lunged for Ron, ready to strangle him. Hermione jumped in, pulling us apart.

"Fine, then, go!" I shouted; I'd had enough of his shite. "Go, then!"

Ron glared at me, then took the locket off and grabbed his things. He turned to Hermione as he stood by the entrance. "And you?" he demanded. "Are you coming, or you staying?"

She looked between us, obviously torn. I silently willed her to stay, knowing that I wouldn't have the slightest chance without her. After a moment of silence, Ron's face turned impassive. "Fine," he muttered. "I get it. I saw you two the other night."

_What?_ We hadn't done a damn thing!

"Ron, that's . . . that's nothing!"

A stab of pain. Yes, it was true, there was nothing between Hermione and me, but that didn't mean I liked it that way. And hearing her say that just made it worse.

And worse, still, as she raced out of the tent, crying after him, begging him to come back. I stared at the blank canvas wall of the tent, my heart splintering in two. I'd just lost my best friend. The girl I loved was in love with _him_. We were stuck in a tent, in the middle of nowhere, with a piece of Voldemort's soul, unable to kill it, and we had three more to find.

_Merlin, help me_.

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A/N: Like I said, intense. Hope I did it justice. Review!


	35. Silence, Again

A/N: BEST SCENE EVER! :D

* * *

I sauntered around the perimeter of our small sanctuary, glancing around for any movement. Of course, there was none. Not a soul to be seen. And none would be able to see _us_, or the tent standing on the rocky terrain.

Glancing back at said tent, I felt a twinge beneath my ribs. Hermione hadn't been herself since Ron left. Crying almost all day, but trying to hide it, not smiling even once, and barely speaking to me. I couldn't help but feel guilty; perhaps I hadn't been as successful at hiding my feelings as I thought. That must have been what Ron picked up on, and he twisted it around, making himself believe that she shared my feelings.

Of course, that was ridiculous. If she had, she wouldn't be so torn apart by his leaving. Sad, yes, but . . . not like this.

Feeling the sudden need to see her, I crossed the distance between myself and the tent, and entered. I found her sitting dejectedly on the small wooden staircase next to the bed that used to be Ron's, listening to a wistful tune on the radio. She barely even glanced my way, before turning back to the device, swaying mournfully with the music. I lowered myself into a chair across the room, watching her. She looked so cold, so heartbroken. It wasn't right. She didn't deserve that.

Suddenly, I hated Ron. Hated him like I'd never hated anyone else, except perhaps Umbridge. How could he do this to her? Forget me, how could he leave her behind like this, when it was obvious how she felt about him? How could he be so blind? So thoughtless? I wanted to tear him apart.

But more than that, I wished that I could be enough for her.

Then again . . . hadn't she stayed? Hadn't she denied Ron, in a small way, when she could have had her chance with him? I knew these thoughts were dangerous, for they allowed me to hope. But in this barren wasteland, with people dying or going missing every day, there was little to hope for. Instinct told me to cling to it, to let it fill me up, for I might not live to feel this way again.

In an instant, I was standing, and crossing the room to where Hermione sat. She lifted her head as I approached, her eyes dark with sadness. I held out my hand to her, not entirely sure of what I was doing. She glanced at it, then at me, then with a small sigh, took it, and allowed me to pull her to her feet. As I did, I spotted the chain, which held the locket. Gently, trying not to think too hard about the softness of her skin, I removed it, and tossed it onto the bed. Then, I took her hands again, leading her toward the middle of the room, never taking my eyes off her.

_Okay, now what?_

I hadn't thought this far in advance. All I really wanted was to see her smile.

Then I had an idea.

Slowly at first, trying not to blush with embarrassment, I moved my arms forward and backward, swaying a bit. It barely counted as a dance, but I didn't really care at this point. I let myself grin at her. She seemed less than amused, but willing to humor me. That wasn't good enough. I started to turn, and spun her around, and at last, she smiled, if only a little. It gave me the courage to keep going. We took turns spinning one another, prancing about the tent like children.

Then, I pulled her close, one hand clasping hers, while the other was at her waist. I felt her rest her head on my shoulder, and everything shifted. The air seemed thick, and I was acutely aware of her soft curves pressed against me, and the heady scent of her perfume—which she stubbornly insisted on wearing. Gradually, our movement ceased, and the song faded. Hermione pulled away from me, her face back to that serious, sad expression. But there was something else, something I dared not hope was there. And yet . . .

I wanted to tell her. I wanted to _show_ her how I felt. Just a few inches, just the slightest movement, and I would be kissing her. I was incredibly tempted.

But I couldn't.

Fear of rejection overwhelmed me, as well as the knowledge that she really _didn't_ feel the same. And as she returned to her previous spot, I knew I could never tell her. I could never come between her and Ron. I would just have to stay silent.

* * *

A/N: This is my favorite scene of Part 1! I was so excited when I first saw it in the theater, but _so_ disappointed when they didn't kiss! GRR! But alas, we can't always get what we want, especially when we don't ship canon. C'est la vie. Review!


	36. Temporary Happiness

_I open at the close._

"Hermione!"

I raced from the tent, adrenaline pumping at my new discovery. I found her sitting not far away, looking over her books, as usual. She looked up as I said her name, setting them aside.

"You were right!" I said. "Snitches have flesh memories, but I didn't catch the first Snitch with my hand, I almost swallowed it!" I handed her the Snitch, then sat across from her, waiting anxiously, my heart thudding beneath my ribs.

"'I open at the close,'" she read.

"What do you think that means?" I asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged. She looked up at me then. "I've found something, as well." All the more excited, I moved next to her, as she grabbed the book she'd been reading. No surprise, it was the copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ she'd gotten from Dumbledore. She opened it to the title page, pointing to a symbol written at the top, above the title.

"At first, I thought it was an eye," she explained, "but now I don't think it is. It isn't a rune, and it isn't anywhere in Spellman's Syllabary. Somebody inked it in. It isn't part of the book. Somebody drew it."

Finally, I recognized it. "Luna's dad was wearing that at Bill and Fleur's wedding."

This only seemed to confuse her more. It confused me, too. "Why would someone draw it in a children's book?"

I didn't know the answer to that any more than she did. And I was sure we wouldn't get anywhere by staying here. I'd had an idea a while ago, and was liking it more and more. Hermione probably wouldn't, but I was determined.

"Look, Hermione," I said, "I've been thinking. I want to go to Godric's Hollow." She looked up at me, and I could see she was hesitant. "It's where I was born, it's where my parents died."

She sighed. "That's exactly where he'll expect you to go," she countered, obviously talking about Voldemort, "because it means something to you." She stood up then, and I started to panic. But I still had more fight left in me.

"Yeah, but it means something to him too, Hermione. You-Know-Who almost died there!" I stood up, as well. "I mean, isn't that exactly the type of place he'd be likely to hide a Horcrux?"

"It's dangerous, Harry," she protested. Then, a look of defeat crossed her face. "But even I have to admit, recently, I've been thinking we'll have to go there." I couldn't help it; I clenched my fists and pulled them toward myself in a gesture of triumph (which Hermione couldn't see, as she was walking away). She went on, "I think it's possible something else is hidden there."

"What?" I asked.

She paused, turning to face me. "The sword," she said simply, then kept walking. "If Dumbledore wanted you to find it, but didn't want it falling into the Ministry's hands, where better to hide it than the birthplace of the founder of Gryffindor?"

Once again, I was left in awe of her brilliance. She stopped walking, turning to me again, and even more, I felt that "keen sting" of love. She was so beautiful. And she was here with me, when nobody else was. Suddenly, I couldn't fathom living even a second without her. I had to tell her.

"Hermione . . ." I began, but the words became lodged in my throat. That same fear gripped me, forcing me back into silence, and I just stared at her. She smiled slightly and lifted a hand, gently stroking my hair. I held by breath, relishing the sensation that spread through me at even this innocent form of contact. All too soon, her hand dropped to her side.

"Don't ever let me give you a haircut again," she said simply.

I smiled, grateful for her attempt to lighten the mood. Grinning in return, she turned and walked away. For the first time in many months, I felt warmth seeping into the crevices of my heart. Voldemort was at large, our friends and family were in danger, the world as we knew it seemed to be coming to an end. But for that moment, at least, I allowed myself to be happy.

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A/N: Lame ending, but what can you do? Lots more to come! Review, please!


	37. A Bittersweet Reunion

Snow covered the ground in a thick, white blanket, and continued to fall in soft flakes. The street lamps flickered, casting barely enough light to see. Not a sound could be heard, not a soul to be seen in Godric's Hollow, except for myself, and Hermione by my side.

_Perfect_.

"I still think we should've used Polyjuice Potion," she whispered.

"No," I shook my head, feeling a hundred different emotions at once. "This is where I was born. I'm not returning as someone else."

A bell tolled somewhere in the distance, catching my attention. Hermione looped her arm through mine, and I shivered at the innocent, yet intimate contact. Not wanting to cause suspicion, I shoved my hands in the pockets of my coat, to make it seem like I was cold. In reality, I could almost feel the snow around me melting. Slowly, we walked along the deserted streets, relishing in the sweet peace.

Just then, a voice yelled, "Good night!" We turned around to see a man, happily exiting one of the homes. He didn't seem to notice us, so Hermione and I continued walking together.

"Harry," she said, "I think it's Christmas Eve. Listen."

I did, and I could hear the quiet strains of a choir singing carols in the church right in front of us. A strange feeling coursed through me; this was the first Christmas in years that I wouldn't be spending with the Weasleys—or at least _one_ of them. But I noted, with delight, at least I wouldn't be alone. As if on cue, Hermione tightened her grip on my arm, coming closer. Warmth seeped into the deepest corners of my soul, and I felt a faint smile hinting at the corners of my mouth.

My eyes wandered, and I saw the small cemetery beside the church. My stomach churned with anxious hope.

"Do you think they'd be in there, Hermione?" I asked. "My mum and dad."

She was quiet for a moment, then replied, "Yeah, I think they would."

Arms still linked, we entered the cemetery, then parted ways, searching at opposite ends. I saw several names I couldn't recognize, or pronounce. Then, at last, my eyes landed on one familiar name. Cold and warm battled inside me as I stared at the resting place of my mother and father. I was dimly aware of Hermione calling my name, but I didn't turn. I _couldn't_.

A moment later, I felt her presence at my side. Then she knelt in front of the grave, pulling out her wand. Out of thin air, she conjured a small wreath of white roses. My heart throbbed with sudden pain, and I couldn't stop a few tears from escaping.

Hermione stood again, and I tried to downplay my emotions, or at least, think past them. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Merry Christmas, Harry," she whispered back, sounding on the verge of tears herself. Then she laid her head on my shoulder, taking my hand. At that moment, I felt more peace than I'd ever felt in my life. I'd finally seen my parents' grave, something I'd wanted to see for as long as I could remember. And though the circumstances weren't the best, I was spending Christmas with my best friend, the girl I was hopelessly in love with, even if she didn't love me back. That was okay. I was just happy to be here, to be with her, to share this with her.

In many ways, I had found home.

* * *

A/N: I may cry! This scene always makes me sad! And then, of course, it all goes to sh**, and they get attacked by the stupid snake. But that's not going to be in this story. At least, not the actual attack. Maybe the part just after. Bah! I don't know if I can handle this! So many incredible Harmony moments! ;) Plenty more chapters to come! PLEASE leave a review!


	38. Growing Old

It was cold.

No, it was beyond cold and straight into frostbite. And it only got colder as I remembered the events of last night. The cemetery. The house. The snake.

My _head_.

I winced at the searing pain, both in my scar, and beneath my skull. Attempting to ignore it, though, I opened my eyes and glanced around the tent. Where was Hermione? Panicked, I hurled myself from my bed and went outside. I was immediately distracted by the beauty of the vast forest. I spotted Hermione a moment later, sitting next to a large tree, reading a book, and I walked over to her. She looked up as I approached.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked.

I very nearly scoffed. Better? After the hell I'd gone through last night. There was no way to answer that question, so I didn't. I changed the subject. "You've outdone yourself this time, Hermione," I said.

Just like Hermione, she understood exactly what I meant. "Forest of Dean," she explained, glancing around. I moved to sit across from her, and she smiled sadly. "Came here once with Mum and Dad, years ago. It's just how I remember it. The trees, the river . . . everything. Like nothing's changed." She looked at me for a moment, then the pain in her eyes increased, and she turned away. "Not true, of course. _Everything's_ changed. If I brought my parents back here now, they probably wouldn't recognize it. Not the trees, not the river . . . not even me."

So she _had_ done it; she'd obliviated them. I'd suspected as much, but never dared ask to confirm it. And I felt even more guilty for dragging her into this. She'd sacrificed everything for me. Her home, her education, her parents, her friendship with Ron, and very nearly gave up her life, all for me. And I just expected her to do it, like the selfish idiot I was.

"Maybe we should just stay here, Harry," she said suddenly. "Grow old."

Oh, how I wished we could. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to stay in this forest with Hermione, forever, creating a life of our own. Away from the pain. Away from the lies. And I wished she wanted that the same way I did. But as always, I was afraid to hope. I was afraid to even suggest that she shared my desires. I wasn't sure that I would be able to bear it if she didn't.

And then, of course, the moment ended. Hermione brought the subject back to our mission, to the mysteries and horrors that plagued us daily.

"You wanted to know who the boy in the photograph was," she said. "I know. Gellert Grindelwald." She handed me the book she was reading, and I opened it to the page she had marked. I recognized him immediately.

"He's the thief I saw in Gregorovitch's wand shop," I told her. And that reminded me of something I was missing. "Speaking of which, where is my wand?" I looked up at her, and my heart sank to see a sad, remorseful expression on her face. _No_. It couldn't be. She was just thinking about Ron, or something else. "Where's my wand, Hermione?"

With a sigh, she shifted and pulled back a corner of the blanket she was sitting on, thus revealing the splintered pieces of my wand.

I nearly cried.

"As we were leaving Godric's Hollow," she explained, "I cast a curse, and it rebounded. I'm sorry. I tried to mend it, but wands are different."

I couldn't even look at her. "It's done," I said, standing up. "Leave me yours. Go inside and get warm. I'll take the locket as well."

Even in my peripheral vision, I could see she was sorry, and hurt by my coldness. I wanted to apologize, I really did. I was still having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that I didn't have a wand anymore. Slowly, Hermione gathered her things, and headed for the tent. Just before she disappeared inside it, I heard one, quiet, heart-wrenching sob.

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A/N: I always thought Harry was more sorry than he seemed to be, but he really sucks at expressing himself, so he just didn't say it. Meh. Another chapter, coming soon!


	39. Hell Unleashed

I couldn't believe it! _Ron!_ Ron Weasley, my best friend, was standing in front of me, soaking wet, after saving my life. And he was holding the Sword of Gryffindor, which we had recently retrieved, and staring at the locket, placed on a log between us.

"Okay, Ron," I said. "Do it."

"I can't handle it," he muttered. "That thing affects me more than it affects you and Hermione."

"All the more reason."

"No," he started backing away. "I can't."

I was getting a little irritated. "Then why are you here?" I asked bluntly. "Why did you come back?" I hadn't intended it to sound so harsh, but I could see the hurt in his eyes. He thought I didn't want him here. And maybe that was sort of true. I was happy to see him, really and truly, but . . . with him back, my chances at having any sort of relationship with Hermione were gone. She would go back to him, because she loved him. It was that simple.

But I couldn't be that selfish. They would be happy. And I was in the way.

Ron stared at the locket, and his expression became determined. I took that as my cue to go on. "Now, I'll have to speak to it in order for it to open. When it does, _don't hesitate_. I don't know what's in there, but it'll put up a fight. The bit of Riddle that was in that diary tried to kill me."

He was quiet for a moment, then whispered, "All right."

I nodded. "One . . . two . . . three." I hissed the appropriate Parseltongue . . .

And then all hell broke loose.

For a while, all I could see was thick blackness, twisting and contorting in a huge, shapeless blob. Voldemort's voice whispered through the dark, speaking directly to Ron. "_I have seen your heart, and it is mine. I have seen your dreams, Ron Weasley, and I have seen your fears. Least loved by your mother, who craved a daughter. Least loved by the girl who prefers your friend._"

I managed to stand, and saw Ron gazing at the blob. "Ron, kill it!" I shouted.

Just then, within the blackness, there arose a sort of light, and two silvery figures appeared. I recognized them, a moment later, as myself . . . and Hermione. We seemed to be walking, but not moving anywhere.

"_We were better without you_," Horcrux-Me said. "Happier_ without you_."

"_Who could look at you compared to Harry Potter?_" Horcrux-Hermione trilled. "_What are you compared with the Chosen One?_"

This was just sick. "Ron, it's lying!" I shouted desperately.

"_Your mother confessed she would have preferred me as a son_."'

_What?_ No, she never said that!

"_What woman would take you? You are nothing . . . nothing . . . nothing compared to him._"

And then, it was as if my worst nightmare, and my deepest desires, had come true simultaneously. The image changed, shifted, and congealed once more, revealing myself, and Hermione . . . locked in a passionate embrace, and kissing each other as if our lives depended on it. And as I looked closer, I realized we weren't dressed. My heart pounded in my throat, and I felt a small tug in my nether regions. _Bloody hell_. I wanted it. I wanted it _so badly_. Oh, how I wanted it to be real!

Suddenly, Ron appeared on the scene, brandishing the sword, and with a mighty swing and a resounding _clang!_ the Horcrux was gone.

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A/N: Phew! That was hard to write. Hope you liked it! Sadly, this is the end of Part 1, since there really weren't that many good Harmony scenes in the rest of the movie. I will keep writing as soon as I have Part 2 on DVD. Until then, please review!


	40. Untimely Realization

A/N: I'M BAAAAAAAAAACK! :D So I officially LOVE my school, because they arranged to show Part 2 at four different times during the day! A whole week before the DVD actually comes out! :D So here I am, back again, and ready to finish this story! I may not get the whole thing done by today, but rest assured, it will be finished by the end of the month! (My birthday is on the 19th, and I have repeatedly asked my parents to buy me the DVD... I'm pretty confident I'll get it.) We're almost there!

Just so you know, this is another not-strictly-Harmony scene. I'm caught in this nice little trap of having to explain why Harry's interested in Ginny, yet is still in love with Hermione. So here's my attempt at an explanation.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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"Harry!"

The red hair... the bright, blue eyes... the translucent skin...

They were incredibly distracting.

Even so, I found myself wondering, _why?_ Why was my heart beating faster, my face growing warmer, and my breath becoming erratic and inefficient? Yes, Ginny was pretty, but... it was only when I saw her that I felt like this. It was like I was on some kind of bloody spell...

A spell...

I stood there, staring at Ginny, and my emotions and my sense of logic began a battle within me. My increasingly intense physical reaction might prompt me to think myself in love with her, but I couldn't understand _why!_ She looked so much like Ron, like my mum... and she was taller than me. That was just weird.

And Hermione...

I knew there was no chance Hermione could have been the one to magically alter my feelings. She had seemed thoroughly sickened when a girl had attempted to smuggle me some love potion last year, and I knew that, if she loved someone, she would want them to love her equally, without outside influence. And as I looked back on my life since Hogwarts, and realized... it had always been there. From the moment we'd met... from the day Ron and I saved her from the troll... from the time she told me I was a great wizard, I knew there was something different about her.

I was distracted from my musings as Ginny spoke again. "Snape knows. He knows Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade."

Resolved, I laid aside my personal feeling to be dealt with later. Right now, I had much bigger fish to fry.

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A/N: Sorry it's so short, but there's not much else to this part. I hate Ginny in the movies. Can I just say that? Bonnie Wright is _beautiful_, but she's got the character all wrong. It's ridiculous. Ugh. And Hermione's so much better. So... YAAAAAAAYY! We're back in business! Stay tuned, another chapter to come soon (I hope)! :D


	41. I'll Go With You

A/N: This is one of my absolute favorite scenes from _The Deathly Hallows Part 2_. It's so emotional, so intense, so _adorable_, that I just _had_ to put it in! I realize that many stories have already been written about this particular segment, and it might seem like I'm copying their work. Well, maybe I am, unintentionally. But the fact of the matter is, there are only a few ways you can really interpret this scene. I hope you'll forgive me for being an apparent copycat, though really, I'm just trying to do this clip justice. Please enjoy this sweet, emotional, thoroughly Harmonious moment.

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I staggered through the castle in a daze, barely noticing what was around me. Here and there, a pile of rubble, a fallen soldier, a person in mourning. I didn't see the faces, and didn't care to. It would just cause more pain.

Speaking of pain.

My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest when I saw them.

Ron and Hermione.

_Snuggling_.

So. He finally did it, then. He finally admitted how he felt. And Hermione, of course, felt the same. And now, they were together. What they'd always wanted. In a way, that hurt worse than the sickening truth I'd just discovered moments ago.

The sound of footsteps—_my _footsteps—echoed in the empty entrance hall, and the all-too familiar bushy head turned around. Her eyes burned with a mixture of emotions as she saw me. Fear. Worry. Relief. Sadness. Even more relief. And a _lot_ more fear. She jumped up from her place beside Ron, yanking her hand out of his grasp. I imagined that did wonders for Ron's ego.

"Where have you been?" she asked, making her way toward me.

"We thought you'd gone off to the forest."

"I'm headed there now," I said flatly, not daring to look either of them in the eye—especially Hermione.

"Are you _mad_?" Ron's voice was incredulous. "No! You can't give yourself up to him!"

_Not like I have a choice, Ron_, I thought, but didn't say anything. What good would it do? It would only cause a fight. I didn't want my last memory with my two friends to involve pointless anger and futile arguments.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked suddenly. "What is it you know?"

I didn't want to tell her. Oh, Merlin, how I wished I didn't have to tell her. But if I didn't, I knew it would be so much worse. She would be far more hurt if I kept it from her, then suddenly just turned up _dead_. There was no way. I had to tell her. I had to tell them both.

"There's a reason I can hear them," I said, my voice breaking. "The Horcruxes. I think I've known for a while." I paused, looking at the floor. I knew what was coming next. "And I think you have too."

My voice sounded strange, and my throat felt thick. It wasn't until I looked up at Hermione, though, that my eyes began to burn with tears. She was near hysterics, by the look of it. I didn't blame her. I honestly didn't know how _I_ was keeping so calm. Well... calm wasn't the word for it. Actually, I wasn't sure _what_ I was.

The term "scared shitless" came to mind.

Suddenly, Hermione uttered four shocking, impetuous, _beautiful_ words. Four words that made my heart jump to my throat. Four words that changed everything.

"I'll go with you!"

For a split second, I stopped breathing. Hermione's eyes, wide and brown and beautiful, and brimming with tears, were focused entirely on me. She seemed wholly oblivious to the redhead standing just a few feet behind her, with a slightly pained expression on his face. But along with that pain was... a sort of resignation. Like he had expected something like this, and he wasn't going to fight it.

Did... did Hermione love me?

That was a stupid question. Of course she loved me. We'd been best friends for seven years! The real question was... was she _in love_ with me?

I didn't dare hope.

And I wasn't about to lead the girl I loved to her death.

"No, kill the snake," I said firmly. "Kill the snake, and then it's just him."

Just like that, she launched herself at me, hugging me as if I was her sole source of life. I returned the hug just as fervently, for Hermione _was_ my life. She was the main reason I had lasted _this_ long. And she was the reason I had ever bothered to get up in the morning. And as the hug continued, I could almost believe that I was _her_ reason, as well.

I suddenly felt guilty. Here I was, sharing a less-than-platonic embrace with my best friend's girl. I looked up at him, and saw that same sort of... resigned look on his face. He knew how I felt... and how _she_ felt. And for the first time, I was really okay with him and Hermione being together. I felt like a prat for not accepting it much earlier. It was obviously going to happen, whether I liked it or not. But better late than never. I tried to express my innermost desire without saying it—something that was easily achieved with Hermione, but I'd never attempted it with Ron before. _Take care of her_, I silently willed him. He gave a barely perceptible nod of the head, and I knew he understood.

Reluctantly, I pulled myself from Hermione's grasp, unable to look her in the eye. I knew if I did, I would lose my nerve. I hated myself for it, but there was no backing down now. I was going to die. I _had_ to. It was the only way.

Tears streaming down my face, I turned my back on my friends, on the only person I'd ever loved more than life itself, on the place I'd called home for seven years, and surrendered myself to the black abyss of the Forbidden Forest.

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A/N: Holy crap. That was hard. I'm willing and proud to admit that this scene _still_ makes me cry, and probably always will. So amazing! Reviews, please!


	42. Incandescently Happy

A/N: Happy birthday to me! :D I got Part 2, at last! And speaking of last, this will be the final chapter for this story. Enjoy!

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Finally... it was _over_.

Voldemort was gone... and I _wasn't_.

I felt like I could fly. Except I had no idea where my Firebolt was. I supposed I would just have to buy a new one.

Ron, Hermione, and I withdrew ourselves from the gaiety surrounding us in the Great Hall, all silently agreeing that now was the _perfect_ time for some peace and quiet. We walked along the corridor, amongst the rubble, until we reached the stone bridge. Stopping halfway, I peered over the edge, into a dark abyss.

For once, it didn't match my soul.

My thoughts turned to the wand resting in my hand. The Elder Wand. I glanced at it, mostly in disgust. This wand had been the cause of so much death.

As always, Hermione seemed to guess my thoughts. "Why didn't it work for him?" she asked. "The Elder Wand?"

I turned to face her, and Ron, my heart clenching momentarily at the knowledge that they were together. What they'd always wanted. But I answered her question.

"It answered to somebody else," I told them. "When he killed Snape, he thought the wand would become his, but the thing is... the wand never belonged to Snape." I took a breath before continuing. "It was Draco who disarmed Dumbledore that night in the Astronomy tower. From that moment on, the wand answered to him. Until..." my heart clenched again, this time at the horrible memory of what had happened, "...the other night, when I disarmed Draco at Malfoy Manor."

Ron was the first to catch on—well, probably not the first to catch on, but he was the first to speak. "So that means..."

I gave a tight-lipped smile, lifting the wand. "It's mine," I said nonchalantly.

"What should we do with it?" Ron asked.

Hermione turned to him. "_We?_"

He shrugged. "I'm just saying, that's the _Elder Wand_. The most powerful wand in the world. With that... we'd be invincible."

I nearly scoffed as I looked down at the thin, decorated piece of wood in my hand. It really was no more spectacular than any other. It was just another damn wand... a wand I didn't even want. And so, in a moment of bravery—or insanity, I had a hard time discerning the two anymore—I snapped the infernal thing in half, and tossed it into the abyss below us. Ron and Hermione appeared at my side, both staring at the place I'd thrown it, their shock clearly etched on both their faces. There was a subtle difference, though. Ron's was blatant surprise, and a bit of wistfulness. Hermione, on the other hand, was pure awe, and... I think a little bit of pride.

I stepped away from the edge, taking a deep breath... and smiling, perhaps the first _real_ smile in many months. My mind wandered back to the dance Hermione and I had shared in the tent, just before Christmas. That was the last time I'd felt really _happy_. Even so, the memory brought sadness, knowing there wouldn't be any more like it.

That was Hermione's choice, though, and as long as she was happy, so was I. And maybe I could learn to love Ginny. Perhaps, in time, that would be enough.

But these thoughts were unnecessary. Right now, I wanted to focus on the fact that I was _alive_, and that we had _won_.

A moment later, Hermione was beside me. We shared a smile, and for a moment, I was certain I saw the same love in her eyes that I felt for her. Whether it was real or not, I chose not to dwell on it. Not now. She slid her hand into mine, and that familiar warmth spread from my fingertips, tingling its way through every inch of my body, and resting in my heart. Ron appeared on her other side, and took her hand. For once, I didn't feel pain. I just felt completely, blissfully, incandescently happy.

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A/N: The end! :'( It has been an honor sharing this story with you! Please leave a review! And be sure to check out my companion fic, "Second Place." Love you all!


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